


The Beat of Your Heart

by OakofLife



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angry Yuri Plisetsky, Anxiety, Coach Victor Nikiforov, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-19 20:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10647384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OakofLife/pseuds/OakofLife
Summary: Victor sat with his head between his knees, hyperventilating. How could things have gone so wrong so fast? Stupid, stupid, stupid. He just had to show off, didn’t he? Well, now his antics may have just gotten Yuuri Katsuki, the recent light of his life, killed.In which Victor accidentally injures Yuuri and journeys with him on the road to recovery and victory. Yurio stays with them in Hasetsu and learns what it means to have a family. Begins post-banquet, pre-arrival in Hasetsu.





	1. Impact

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first time posting a fanfic, though I've been reading for many years! The idea for this fic came to me while I was listening to a medical emergency story on the radio. 
> 
> A few things to note before we get started:  
> There is a major medical emergency at the beginning of this fic! I don't think it is overly graphic, but it is serious (and extremely rare!). I will let you all know up front that this is NOT a death fic, so don't worry. I briefly describe some medical procedures, but please do not use this work for any medical advice. I highly recommend taking a first-aid/CPR class :) 
> 
> The time of this fic is a bit off of canon. I wanted there to be an Olympics the season of the Sochi GPF, so I just made it happen. It's intentionally left vague where they are. 
> 
> This work has no beta, and as always, these characters/this world do not belong to me!

Victor sat with his head between his knees, hyperventilating. How could things have gone so wrong so fast? Stupid, stupid, stupid. He just had to show off, didn’t he? Well, now his antics may have just gotten Yuuri Katsuki, the recent light of his life, killed.

It all started two months ago after the Grand Pre Final. Victor had won gold, again, and it was starting to feel routine. Smile for the cameras, comment on surprising the audience, grateful for his coach and fans, blah, blah blah… Not that this wasn’t true of course, but it felt…boring. Tired. If he was honest with himself, it didn’t matter. Winning, competing, it didn’t make him feel anything anymore.

Until the banquet.

Victor was making his usual round of small talk with sponsors, when suddenly there was a commotion coming from the center of the room. Yuuri Katsuki, the mild mannered, quiet skater from Japan, had encouraged the DJ to turn the background music up and was now dancing like a maniac, various articles of clothing seemingly gone missing. It wasn’t long before Chris joined him. Victor had to smile, and of course pull out his phone to snap a few pics. Sure, the sponsors were now very uncomfortable, but it was about time something exciting happened at one of these parties.

Victor was enjoying just watching the scene, but then Yuuri spotted him and drunkenly grabbed his hand to pull him into a dance. What followed had to be described as the best night of Victor’s life. Finally, a real connection at an after party! Sure, he was inebriated, but Drunk Yuuri didn’t seem to care that he had come in last, didn’t care that Victor was, well, Victor. As they danced, Victor felt like a weight had been lifted from his heart. And when a half-dressed Yuuri looked up at Victor and asked him to be his coach, eyes shining with adoration, his heart soared. _Finally_ , he thought. _I’ve been looking for you, and here you are_.

Except that Victor had not seen or heard from Yuuri since his coach dragged him off to bed. Yuuri checked out early the next morning, before Victor could catch him and give him his number. As much as he tried, he couldn’t seem to find a way to get in contact with Yuuri online. He hoped that Yuuri would reach out to him somehow, but days of scrolling through his twitter-follower’s comments had come up with nothing. Yuuri was occasionally in the skating news, and the results were not good. Victor didn’t really care about Yuuri’s scores, but it was disappointing that he didn’t qualify for Worlds, so Victor would not compete against him again this season.

Except… Of course!

Victor checked the online forums and grinned like an idiot when his theory was confirmed. Though Yuuri was having an off season, he was still the best male figure skater in Japan, which meant that he would be competing in the upcoming Olympic Games. Victor still had a chance to see him again before the season ended. He just had to wait one more month. And what an excruciating month it was. Yuri chastised him several times for being distracted, but Victor didn’t care. He didn’t care about what place he came in, he would be satisfied getting to have a real conversation with Yuuri, the man who had so utterly surprised him.

Victor was fidgety with anticipation for much of the flight. He wasn’t sure yet how he would connect with Yuuri, and his mind ran through a million different scenarios, trying to prepare for anything. Unfortunately, he hadn’t prepared for a situation in which Yuuri apparently did not want to be found. Yuuri did not socialize with the other skaters, and he was quick to leave the arena after practices. Victor tried to time his arrivals and departures to overlap with Yuuri’s, but they both seemed to be on tight schedules and were always surrounded by other teammates. Every brief glimpse he got of Yuuri (usually of the back of his head), was torture for Victor. So close, and yet so far.

Victor hoped that the day the competitions began, their schedules would not be as full and Yuuri would stick around to watch. However, Yuuri was one of the first skaters to perform that day, and he disappeared soon after his short program. Yuuri did reasonably well during this program; he didn’t fall, but the jumps still lacked precision. Those step sequences and spins though… the man knew how to move like the music was part of his body. Victor watched intently, cognizant that this was the first time he had seen Yuuri skate live since the banquet. He had rewatched many of his old programs online, but there was nothing compared to seeing him in person. Yuuri seemed to deflate when his scores came in, and Victor wanted to rush to the Kiss and Cry and tell him not to give up.

When Victor finally took the ice, he scanned over the crowd, secretly wishing Yuuri had come back to watch his performance. No such luck. He skated his best anyway, making the last two months’ worth of frustration into energy that propelled him into first place. At the end of the short program performances, Victor was leading by a narrow margin, and Yuuri was in the middle of the pack. Yuri, excited to be an Olympic competitor so young, ranked 10th.

As the next day of competition began, Victor knew he was running out of time. Today was the last day that Yuuri would be competing. The last day he knew they would be in the same area. Not all competitors stayed through the closing ceremonies. If Victor was going to make a move, it had to be today. He was both nervous, and uneasy. He thought that by this point, Yuuri would have tried to connect with him as well. Yuuri was naturally shy, of course, but their night at the Grand Prix, was special. Wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Victor’s heart leapt when he saw Yuuri standing near the rink just before the warm-up skate. He was wearing his Japan skating jersey, but was talking with the skater from Thailand. Huh. Maybe Yuuri did socialize after all. Victor couldn’t help but feel jealous. Yuuri’s coach came over and spoke to the pair, and Victor realized they must be rink-mates. This didn’t help his feelings of envy.

Victor was just beginning to walk toward them when he felt an angry tug at his sleeve. “Time to go,” hissed the other Yuri. “Jeeze, I don’t know what’s gotten into you these days. I don’t know how you’re still in first place.” Victor gritted his teeth and suppressed a groan. Yuri was right. The skaters lined up to take the ice for the warm-up. Yuuri and his friend were several people ahead of Victor, Yuri and the others on the Russian team. Victor waited his turn, then glided onto the ice, desperation beginning to rise in his chest. He tried not to be too obvious that he was looking ahead to keep an eye on Yuuri.

After a lap or so, the skaters began to spread out. Some went faster, slower, or practiced their jumps. Victor tensed his hands and made up his mind. _It’s now or never_. Victor began to speed up. He would catch up with Yuuri and talk to him, right here, right now. Nothing too forward to throw him off his game, but at least enough to connect with him after the competition. His mind raced to find the right words as Yuuri came closer. How would he even begin? Skaters don’t often speak to each other during the warm-up… Victor’s nervousness was suddenly pushed aside with a rush of boldness. As he closed the last gap between himself and Yuuri, he launched into a flip, aiming to land perfectly at his side—

_**WHAM** _

Just as Victor came speeding toward Yuuri, Yuuri moved in towards the center of the rink, presumably to practice a jump himself. He would never make it. Victor was jumping far too close to the skaters, and crashed directly into Yuuri, sending him flying into the rink wall.

 

* * *

 

What happened next would forever be burned into Victor’s memory.

The first thing Victor felt was the cold. Cold of the ice under his back. Then he heard shouts, and skates screeching as players quickly diverted around his prone body. Fire ached up his back. He had had worse. It would be okay. Right?

Victor’s eyes popped open and he shot upright. Yuuri! He looked toward the rink wall. Yuuri was crumpled on the ice floor next to it. He wasn’t moving.

_He wasn’t moving._

His eyes were closed.

Victor’s ears began to ring. The Thai skater came rushing over from across the rink, shouting Yuuri’s name. Victor shook himself into action. He crossed the few feet over to Yuuri’s side, willing his breathing to calm. _Breathe. You can’t help him if you panic…_

The Thai skater arrived at the same time and knelt next to his friend. “Yuuri!” he yelped, giving his shoulder a small shake. “Yuuri, come on!” No response. Victor and the Thai skater frantically began checking Yuuri all over. “He’s not breathing!” the other skater exclaimed, voice high and tight. Victor’s stomach clenched. He observed Yuuri’s chest for a moment. No rise and fall. No breath. No. Trembling, Victor placed his fingers on Yuuri’s wrist.

Nothing.

But, pulses on the wrist aren’t always accurate, right? He looked up at the other skater, who was feeling Yuuri’s neck. Face blanching, the young skater shook his head. In one last plea, Viktor lightly leaned his head on Yuuri’s unyielding chest. No sound. No heartbeat. _No. No. No._

“What do we do?” the Thai skater squeaked. Victor felt ice surrounding his heart. “CPR. CPR. Go get help, I’ll-I was trained-I’ll-“ The Thai skater nodded, then rushed off.

There was a crowd beginning to gather around them, and coaches were beginning to run towards them on the other side of the wall. Victor took a deep breath to steady himself for what he knew he needed to do. He quickly but gently repositioned Yuuri, trying not to look at his lifeless face, trying not to think that Yuuri should be able to move himself. _Don’t panic. Help._ He found the proper spot on Yuuri’s chest, and began compressions.

* * *

 

CPR is nothing like they show on T.V. Not a quick few thumps on the chest, then the person sits up again, awake and smiling.

Victor wished it were that easy.

Thirty compressions, not too fast, not too slow, not too shallow, 2 breaths, begin again. Ignore the popping, cracking sounds. Broken ribs are nothing compared to dying. Pray to whatever gods may be listening that this works.

“Stay with me, Yuuri…”

* * *

 

Victor doesn’t know how long it has been when the paramedics show up. Probably only a few minutes at most, as there are emergency vehicles close by in case of accidents. It feels like a lifetime. Victor is pushed aside as a professional takes over the compressions. Victor hears something about an AED in the ambulance. He sags onto the ice as Yuuri is whisked away on a stretcher, a man still performing the life-saving compressions.

Victor stays on the ice, shaking, as the others clear away. He stares ahead, looking at nothing. Someone behind him taps him on the shoulder. It’s the other Yuri. “We need to get off the ice.” Victor had never seen him look so pale and small. The younger skater’s eyes were wide as they peered down at Victor as if asking, What happened?

What happened indeed? As Victor leaves the rink, there is a commotion of other skaters and coaches alike, asking him a thousand questions. Yakov quickly ushers Victor into a secluded spot.

“Impact cardiac arrest,” someone tells Victor. A very rare condition. If the chest is struck at just the right moment in a heartbeat, it can disrupt the cycle and cause cardiac arrest. Yuuri must have slammed into the rink wall at just the wrong moment.

And now he might die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this fic! Let me know what you think. I have the first 4 chapters written and will try to update soon. I'm not sure yet how many chapters there will be-I'm thinking 7-10, but we will see. 
> 
> Come say hi on my tumblr! https://oakoflife.tumblr.com/ This is a new blog, so there isn't much on there yet.


	2. Stay Close to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to go ahead and publish chapter 2 today. I hope the formatting is okay. I've been having a little trouble converting it from my word doc.

Victor was startled by someone awkwardly patting his back. He had been sitting on the sideline hidden from view for who knows how long, and he realized he had been crying. Wiping tears from his eyes, he looked up to see the younger Russian skater looking very uncomfortable.

 

“You need to get a grip,” Yuri mumbled, “You’re up soon.”

 

Victor’s eyes grew wide. “Up? I can’t go out there!”

 

Yuri shrugged at him. “Well, you’re the 5th competitor today. Better tell someone soon if you aren’t going.”

 

Victor jumped up, arms still trembling from shock and exertion. “I have to go… talk to someone…”

 

“Suit yourself.” Yuri looked relieved that he was leaving. Victor looked around, unsure of where to go. Yakov was nowhere to be found; presumably, he was talking to the Olympic committee about his star skater’s recent behavior. About 50 yards away, Victor spotted Yuuri’s coach standing by a bench where the Thai skater was sitting. Victor’s stomach clenched, but he knew he had to speak with them. He made his way over, legs turning to jelly. The pair did not look great. The skater was staring at his phone in his hand, as if willing it to ring, and the coach’s face was pale.

 

Victor cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and addressed the coach. It came out a jumbled mess. “I’m so, so sorry…I didn’t mean… accident I promise! Is he okay? I’m dropping out, it’s not fair, I promise this wasn’t sabotage, it was just an accident. I was too close when I did the jump, and it was an accident I promise… I’ll go tell them right now that I’m not competing…I …”

 

The coach opened his mouth as if to speak, but he was interrupted by the skater beside him.

 

“You can’t drop out.”

 

“What? But I have to, this is the most significant injury of a skater in Olympic history, it’s not fair-“

 

The younger skate—Phichit, according to the name tag—cut him off again. “I know. It’s not fair that Yuuri doesn’t get to compete.” His voice shook. “But he wouldn’t want you to drop out. He’s going to kill me for telling you this, but he looks up to you as a skater, and he would be furious if his injury kept you from skating.”

 

“If _he_ kept _me_ from skating?”

 

Phichit managed a watery laugh. “I know. But trust me, that’s how he thinks. Believe me, I would be at the hospital right now, but I know that if… _when_ he wakes up, he would be so upset with me if I missed my chance at performing today.” His hands trembled as he checked his phone again. Victor raised a questioning eyebrow.

 

“He has a lot of family and friends with him right now. Well, waiting at the hospital. His sister said she would text me when they know anything.”

 

“So… no news yet…?”

 

Phichit bit his lip and shook his head, fighting back tears.

 

Another thought occurred to Victor. “I might not be able to skate today anyway, though. I think I’m going to be disqualified for injuring him…”

 

This time Yuuri’s coach intervened. “No. They won’t.” His voice was hollow. “Let’s face it, Yuuri was nowhere near medaling. He was no threat to you. Everyone knows there would have been no point in you injuring him so publicly. As much as I would like to disqualify you anyway, Phichit is right.”

 

Victor sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “It just doesn’t seem right.”

 

“Yeah, well.” Phichit suddenly fixed him with a glare. “You had better give him a great performance. Understand?”  
           

Victor nodded, surprised by the ferociousness radiating from the young skater. He exchanged phone numbers with Phichit, asking for an update as soon as he heard anything. He promised that he would skate his best, for Yuuri, and that he would find a way to make it up to him somehow.

 

Though how you can make up for ruining someone’s chance to represent their country at the Olympics, Victor did not know.

 

* * *

 

 

Victor really, really did not feel like skating. He was exhausted from the events of the day, both physically and mentally. But, Phichit’s warning reverberated in his brain. _Give him a great performance_.

 

Victor went through the motions of warming up for his skating, but his mind was far away, with the Japanese man whom he desperately wished lived long enough to let him get to know him better. Phichit’s comment about Yuuri fascinated him. Yuuri would feel like _he_ had ruined _Victor’s_ chance at skating? What a kind, selfless soul. Victor dully wondered if Yuuri would hate him after this. All his pining and efforts may have backfired horribly on him. Presuming Yuuri even lived.

_Stop it_ , Victor told himself. _Don’t think like that_.

 

But he couldn’t stop thinking that. He couldn’t stop feeling the tissue giving way as he pounded Yuuri’s chest. Couldn’t stop hearing the silence as he listened for a heartbeat, or his own whispered words, pleading with Yuuri, _stay with me_ , _stay with me_.

 

“Stay with me…” he whispered to himself again as he stretched.

 

He knew what he needed to do.

 

* * *

 

 

There was no news from Phichit yet as Victor took the ice. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he skated to the center of the rink. It was normal, of course, for everyone to watch him as he performed, but he felt it more keenly this time. Rather than a warm welcome, he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the ice beneath his feet. He posed, waiting for the music. _Give him a great performance_. Deep breath. The music began.

 

Victor was intimately familiar with this routine, this song. He knew each note and movement like an old friend. Over the past season, he must have skated it hundreds of times. But today, it felt brand new. He felt a new yearning, a new urgency as he brought to life the song’s melancholic melody.

 

_Stay Close to Me_. The song had a whole new meaning now. It was a whispered prayer for Yuuri’s life. A message he wished he could project across the distance to Yuuri, urging him to hang on. As Victor glided across the ice, sweeping his arms dramatically as he entered a spin, he could almost picture Yuuri skating beside him.

_Stay with me. Stay Close to Me. Stay with me Yuuri_ …

 

Victor struck his final pose as the music faded away. Tears glazed glistening tracks down his face as he made one last silent plead to the universe.

 

The crowd erupted. Victor vaguely recalled that he must have skated well. He hadn’t even been focusing on his routine, his mind too filled with his worries for Yuuri. Nevertheless, no falls, not even a fumble.

 

Victor exited the ice, not bothering to pick up any of the plushies fans had tossed to him. Phichit was waiting near the exit. They made eye contact, and Phichit gave him a quick nod. The tension in Victor’s chest relaxed slightly. His skating had been a worthy performance. Various other skaters offered Victor a smile or thumbs up as he made his way to the Kiss and Cry, but it was difficult for Victor to return the gestures. He felt like he had just run a marathon after pulling an all-nighter, instead of skating for less than five minutes.

 

Yakov met him at the Kiss and Cry. “Good work today. Your strongest performance yet,” he informed Victor gruffly. Yakov eyed him closely, trying to read the skater’s emotions. Victor nodded, but didn’t say anything. Now that his routine was finished, he just wanted to disappear. They sat together in silence, neither one knowing what to say.

 

At last, Victor’s scores were announced via loudspeaker and the scoreboard. Victor couldn’t be bothered to check, however, because at that precise moment, he felt a buzz from the phone in his jacket pocket. He whipped it out instantly to check. A text. From Phichit. Victor’s heart hammered in his chest, and his hands shook almost too hard for him to open the message. He sucked air in through his teeth and powered through. The message was just two words:

**Yuuri’s alive.**

 

* * *

 

 

Victor re-read the message, and read it again to make sure it was correct. Yes. _Yes_. They must have managed to restart his heart. Victor wanted to sing, or dance, or at least hug someone. Yakov was the closest person, who suddenly found himself enfolded in a very damp hug from his student, who had started crying again. He grumbled, but did not push Victor away. Reporters were starting to close in around them, and Yakov quickly shooed them away, dragging Victor off to the locker rooms for some privacy.

 

Yakov left Victor alone in the locker room, partly because he had other students to attend to, partly because he was not good at dealing with other people’s emotions. Victor sat on the ground and leaned against the cool metal of the lockers. No one else was around and the silence was both jarring and refreshing. He closed his eyes and titled his head back, the occasional tear continuing to leak from under his lids. He shivered as the adrenaline dissipated from his system and his heart rate slowed to a more reasonable pace. Then, Victor turned his attention back to his phone. He was utterly relieved that Yuuri was still alive, but he realized that Yuuri was probably not well.

 

Victor: Did they say how he is doing?

 

Phichit: Kind of. He’s in the ICU. They said he’s critical, but stable. I’m not really sure what that means.

 

Victor: Is he awake?

 

Phichit: Not yet.

 

Phichit: He’s pretty banged up. Some cracked/bruised ribs from the CPR. Maybe a concussion from the fall.

 

Victor felt the tears flowing again. He hadn’t killed Yuuri. But these injuries could take months the heal.

 

Victor: I’m so sorry.

 

Phichit: I know.

 

Phichit: I have to get ready for my program. I’ll let you know when he wakes up.

 

Victor: Thank you. Good luck.

 

Victor spent the rest of the day in hiding. He did not want to encounter the press, who would undoubtedly want to talk to him about this morning’s mishap. He was constantly on edge, as his phone kept going off with concerned messages from friends and media alerts. Eventually, he set to phone to “emergencies only” and added Phichit’s number to the list of people who could still contact him. That didn’t stop him from continuing to check his phone every 5 minutes, even though it hadn’t buzzed. He wanted to text Phichit for an update, but he knew he would hear from him if there was any news.  At one point, Yakov bribed Yuri into bringing Victor some food in the locker room when he finished his own free skate. Now that the initial crisis was over, the young Russian was back to his usual aloof self. He threw a bag with a flimsy slice of pizza in Victor’s direction, then stormed off to keep an eye on the competition. Eventually Victor must have dozed off against the lockers, as he was startled awake a while later by a very displeased looking Yuri.

 

“What’s wrong?” Victor jolted upward. Was there an emergency?

 

“Nothing.” Yuri rolled his eyes. “They need you out there.”

 

“What? Why?” He _really_ did not need a press conference right now.

 

“Because you won, idiot.”

 

“What?”

 

Yuri grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the locker room into the stadium. He jabbed his finger toward the scoreboard. At the top was Victor’s name. Despite everything, he had won gold.

 

It made Victor sick.

 

This was an achievement of a lifetime, he knew. But he didn’t deserve it. Not when Yuuri was lying in a hospital somewhere because of him. Victor stood on the podium and accepted the medal anyway. He didn’t want to shame Russian in front of the world by rejecting the award. When he left the podium, Victor couldn’t avoid the reporters. They surrounded him and bombarded him with questions.

 

“Mr. Nikiforov! How does it feel to win gold at the Olympics?”

 

“Mr. Nikiforov? Can you comment on this mornings’ accident?”

 

“Mr. Nikiforov- how were you able to skate so well after the traumatic events earlier today.”

 

Victor closed his eyes, then rounded on the reporters. “I am deeply remorseful that I injured Yuuri Katsuki, and I dedicate my performance and win to him. No further comments.”

 

He pushed through the throng of microphones and ran.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Victor returned to his hotel and flopped on his bed. He was sharing a room with Georgi, but the rest of the Russian team was out celebrating, so he had time to himself. He was grateful. He contemplated going straight to bed, but his phone pinged. Another text from Phichit.

 

Phichit: Yuuri woke up for a minute a little bit ago. They’re moving him out of the ICU.

 

Victor: Thanks for letting me know. How’s he doing?

 

Phichit: Okay, I think. He’s on a lot of pain medication, so he’s pretty out of it.

 

Victor: Are you there at the hospital with him?

 

Phichit: Celestino and I are in the waiting room.

 

Phichit: But we’re going to leave after we say hi to him.

 

Victor: Would it be okay if I visited?

 

Phichit: Let me check.

 

Victor held his breath for a minute while he waited for Phichit to reply.

 

Phichit: Mari says it’s okay for you to come to the hospital. If he wakes up again and is okay with it, you can visit him.

 

Victor: Thanks Phichit.

 

Victor was in a taxi on the way to the hospital in less than five minutes.

 

Victor quickly found the hospital waiting room, but Phichit and his coach were no longer there. Victor spotted a vaguely familiar looking woman reading a magazine and sipping a coffee and decided to sit near her. She looked up as he sat down, recognition and surprise growing on her face.

 

“Victor Nikiforov?”

 

“Hi. I’m here to see Yuuri Katsuki. Do you know—“

 

“I’m his sister, Mari. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand for him to shake. Sister. No wonder she looked familiar.

 

“I’m so so—“

 

“Sorry. Yes, we know.”

 

Awkward silence.

 

“The doctor is in with him and my parents right now. It could be a while. Do you want to come back tomorrow? He’ll probably be more with it then.”

 

“The team is flying back to Russia tomorrow. I can wait.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

Victor jiggled his leg as Mari turned her attention back to her magazine. “Is he mad at me?” he blurted out.

 

Mari raised an eyebrow. “Honestly? It hasn’t come up. We’ve been a little too focused on keeping him alive to worry about you, Victor.”

 

“Oh. Right.”

 

Mari softened a little. “But we’re all glad that you know CPR. You saved his life.”

 

Victor snorted. “I guess. After almost ending it.”

 

They waited for almost an hour, then another woman showed up. She was more enthusiastic to meet Victor. Minako, as Victor learned, was Yuuri’s ballet instructor, and a long-time fan of his. She grilled him about various performances and outfits from his past until an older couple—Yuuri’s parents—arrived, looking rather frazzled. A short exchanged followed, entirely in Japanese, so Victor couldn’t understand. He thought he heard his name, and Yuuri’s a few times. Yuuri’s mother surprised Victor with a warm hug as they greeted him, and then left for the hotel for a break after the long day. Mari and Minako promised to look after Yuuri until visiting hours were over.

 

As Yuuri’s parents walked away, Minako turned to Victor and asked, “Are you ready?”

 

He nodded, heart jumping into his throat, and followed her down the hallway. Mari elected to stay behind, not wanting to crowd the room. The pair wound their way through brightly lit hallways and past a nurses’ station until they finally reached a room at the end of the unit. Minako knocked on the doorframe and entered the room, ushering Victor in behind her.

 

Victor stifled a gasp as he entered the room, and Minako gave him a warning look. _Keep it together_. Yuuri was laying in the middle of a large hospital bed, covered in tubes and wires. A gap in his hospital gown revealed electrodes attached to his chest, which provided the reading on the heart monitor nearby. Victor was relieved to see the strong, steady beats on the monitor; the Yuuri he saw now looked strikingly similar to almost-dead Yuuri from earlier. He was still pale, and Victor winced as he noticed the bruises on his chest. Those would take a long time to heal. In addition to the heart monitor, Yuuri had an IV poking into his left hand and a cannula in his nose to deliver oxygen. He seemed so small and fragile, and Victor could hardly believe this was the same person whose dancing had filled the room with such joy and life. Guilt twisted his heart like a vice.

 

Minako patted Victor’s arm, then approached the bed to wake Yuuri. She gently rubbed his shoulder. “Yuuri… you have a visitor. Time to wake up!” She adjusted his bed so he was laying at an angle instead of all the way flat.

 

Yuuri slowly came to, blinking his eyes with a dazed expression. “Minako?” he asked, trying to focus on the face in front of him.

 

“Oh, sorry,” she quickly dug around the items on the table next to him and procured his glasses, setting them on his face with a flourish. “That should help.”

 

Yuuri asked her something in Japanese. A short exchange followed. Victor couldn’t understand their language, but it seemed to him that Minako was repeating herself a lot. Eventually Minako pointed in Victor’s direction and said, “Yuuri, Victor’s here to see you. I’m going to let you two talk, and be back in a few minutes, okay?”

 

“Okay?” It was more of a question than a statement, but Minako continued to walk towards Victor.

 

“I doubt he’ll remember this. I’ll remind him that you came by when he’s feeling better.”  


“Thanks.”

 

With that, Minako exited the room, leaving Victor standing in the middle by himself. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to say or do. But Yuuri was looking up at him, eyes seeming to focus more intently as he spotted him.

 

“Victor?” he asked, more to himself than to the other entity in the room.

 

“Hi Yuuri,” Victor said, willing himself to approach the bed.

 

“What? Uh… what are you… doing here?” Yuuri’s voice was soft, too soft, and slightly hoarse.

 

“I came to apologize,” Victor explained, sitting in the nearby chair so he was eye-level with Yuuri.

 

“Apologize?” Yuuri thought for a moment. “For what?”

 

Victor sighed. He didn’t want to say it. “For doing this to you. I’m the reason you’re injured.”  


Yuuri blinked a few times as he processed. Victor waited with bated breath for his reaction, fearing Yuuri would yell at him, or worse, cry. But, Yuuri’s expression remained neutral as he said, “You? Huh.”  


“I’m sorry,” Victor said quietly, unable to look Yuuri in the eye.

 

Yuuri continued to watch Victor with a dazed look, then asked, “Are you real?”

 

Victor couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, Yuuri, I’m really here.”  


“Okay,” said Yuuri, sounding unconvinced, then muttered something to himself in Japanese. Victor silently cursed himself for not learning any of the language.

 

“Listen Yuuri, I should let you get back to resting soon, but I wanted to give you something before I go.”

 

Pale rose tinged Yuuri’s cheeks, helping him look more alive. “Give me something? But…I don’t have a gift…for you,” Yuuri slurred, looking concerned.

 

“What? No, no, Yuuri…this is to make up for injuring you. For ruining your shot at performing in the Olympics.”  


Yuuri didn’t say anything to that, so Victor proceeded to hand Yuuri a small, but heavy, bag. Yuuri reached to grab it, wincing as his skin around the IV pulled. Victor’s body cringed along with him. Yuuri stared blankly at the package until Victor prompted him to open it.

 

“A gold medal?” Yuuri clasped the disc with both hands, letting the ribbon trail back into the soft bag. It reflected the lights from the medical equipment like a disco ball. “I don’t… I don’t understand?” Yuuri’s eyes peered up questioningly at Victor.

 

“I wanted you to have it,” Victor explained. “It didn’t seem fair that I won while you didn’t even get to perform today.”

 

“Um.” Yuuri looked down. “I wasn’t going to win anyway. It’s yours.” He tried to lean forward to give it back, then gasped and clutched at his chest as the movement pulled on his ribs. Yuuri dropped the medal in his lap and leaned back.

 

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice was instantly full on concern. His eyes flitted to the heart monitor, but Yuuri’s heart was still beating strong. “Yuuri, are you in pain?”

 

Yuuri nodded, closing his eyes.

 

“On a scale of 1 to 10?” A common way to rate pain.

 

“Uh, uh, maybe a 6? Sometimes 7.”

 

“We should get a nurse to see if you need more medicine.”  


“There’s a button…somewhere…” Yuuri tried to look for it, but Victor found it first. He pressed the red button, then placed it near Yuuri’s hand so he could reach it again if needed.

 

While they waited for the nurse, Victor picked up the medal and gently pressed it into Yuuri’s hands again. “Win or not, I still want you to have this, Yuuri.” He curled his fingers around Yuuri’s so he couldn’t give it back. “Will you please accept it?”

 

Yuuri stared at their hands for a moment, then finally nodded. “Okay,” he whispered.

 

Victor smiled at him. “Great. Here, I’ll put this back in the bag and place it by your other things so it doesn’t get lost or damaged, da?” Yuuri nodded. Victor carefully placed the medal back inside, making sure to wrap it in protective cloths, then set it on the counter by a bag of clothes someone had brought Yuuri.

 

Just then, the nurse came into the room. She asked Yuuri a few questions, then decided he was due for another dose of pain medicine. She injected some into the IV bag so it could make its way through the already-placed needle into his system. “This will make him drowsy,” she warned Victor as she left.

 

Victor turned back to Yuuri when she was gone. “I should probably let you rest, Yuuri,” he told him, though every fiber of his being was longing to stay.

 

“It was nice to meet you,” Yuuri said, holding out his hand to shake Victor’s.

 

Victor couldn’t help but laugh. _Poor Yuuri_ , he thought, _He must be disoriented if he thinks this is the first time we’ve met_. Victor took his hand in his anyway, saying “It was good to see you again.” His hand lingered in Yuuri’s for a moment. He raised two fingers on his other hand and gestured toward Yuuri’s wrist. “Can I…?” Yuuri nodded.

 

Victor lowered their hands onto the bed and placed his fingers on Yuuri’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. Unlike this morning, he could feel the steady beat as Yuuri’s heart pushed blood through his body. Victor savored the feeling for a moment.

 

“Can you feel my heart beat?” Yuuri asked him.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes were closing, and Victor knew he should leave. Still, he lingered, holding Yuuri’s hand in his, as the tension left the young man’s body and he drifted off to sleep. When he was sure Yuuri was sleeping, he released his hand, then gently removed Yuuri’s glasses and placed them back on the table so he wouldn’t crush the frames in his sleep. “Goodnight, Yuuri,” he whispered, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

 

Victor searched the table and found a pen and notepad. He scribbled his number onto a piece of paper, with a note asking Yuuri to call him when he was feeling better. Victor folded this and placed it in the bag beside the medal. As he went to leave the room, he took one final look at Yuuri, thanking the universe that he had survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri finally gets some screen time! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	3. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! Have another chapter :)
> 
> I can't believe the response this has gotten! I thought that *maybe* five people would read this. I have a lot of technical writing experience from research papers in grad school, but not a lot of creative writing experience, so I hope I can do this story justice.

Two weeks passed, and Victor still hadn’t heard anything from Yuuri. He had worried that Yuuri had developed further complications from the incident, but he saw a short news article stating that Yuuri had been released from the hospital. Why hadn’t he contacted Victor yet? Victor still received texts from his rinkmates and Chris, so he knew his phone was working just fine.

 

Chris had given him a lot of grief over the accident. “There are simpler ways to get to kiss a guy,” he teased one evening while they were on Skype. Victor turned red. “I didn’t kiss him! That was part of the CPR!”

 

“Sure.” Chris winked.

 

Victor sighed. “Why isn’t he talking to me?”

 

“Well, you did kill him.”  


“I did not!”

 

“Well, his heart _did_ stop, so technically-“

 

Victor groaned. “You’re useless.”

 

“I try. If it means that much to you, why don’t you talk to his friend. Phichit?”

 

“I don’t want to come across as desperate.”

 

Chris shrugged. “I’m not sure if impressions really matter after the fiasco at the Olympics.”

 

“Fine. You’re always great for my self-esteem, Chris.”

 

* * *

 

 

Victor wasn’t sure where Phichit was staying at this point- still in Detroit, or was he visiting Thailand after the skating season was over? He sent a text and tried to tell himself not to worry if he didn’t hear back from Phichit immediately because of the time difference.

 

Victor: Hi Phichit. I watched your FS from the Olympics. Nice work.

 

Fortunately, Phichit responded just a few minutes later.

 

Phichit: Thanks. You too.

 

Victor: Do you know how Yuuri is doing?

 

Phichit: Ah, I knew there was a reason you were texting me!

 

Phichit: I think he’s okay. He’s back in Japan with his family right now.

Victor: That’s good.

 

Victor: I gave him my number, but I haven’t heard from him. Is he mad at me?

 

Phichit: I think he hasn’t been using his phone much lately, you know how the media is. I haven’t really been in contact with him either.

 

Victor. Okay. So he doesn’t hate me?

 

Phichit: Not everything is about you, Victor!

 

Phichit: ;)

 

Victor: That’s what his sister told me. I’m just really worried that he’ll resent me for ruining his Olympics.

 

Phichit: Nah, he doesn’t hate you.

 

Victor: Okay. Are you sure?

 

There was a pause in the texts, and Victor grew worried about the answer.

 

Phichit: Okay, Yuuri might end up hating _me_ for showing you this, but you should watch this.

 

Phichit sent him a link, and Victor opened a private youtube video, apprehensive of the content. It showed Yuuri gliding on the ice, then getting into a very familiar position. The music started, and Victor’s heart leapt.

 

Yuuri was skating his free skate routine.

 

He had downgraded the jumps, and his landings weren’t as clean as Victor’s, but in every other aspect, Victor had to admit Yuuri was better. His movements and step sequences were exquisite and far more expressive than Victor ever managed. It was like he was creating the music, not skating to it.

  
Victor: WHAT IS THIS? WHEN IS THIS?

 

Phichit: Sometime in January. He learned your program and I secretly filmed him. J

 

Phichit: So, in short, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. Calm down.

 

Phichit: You know, now that I’ve shown you, I may as well upload this to Instagram…

 

Victor: I have to talk to him. How do I get in touch with him?

 

Phichit: I can give you his number, but you might just have to wait until he’s using his phone again.

 

Victor: How long will that be?

 

Phichit: I don’t know. He’s pretty shy, so it could be a while. A month or so?

 

Victor: I can’t wait that long!

  
Phichit: I don’t know what to tell you, Victor. Short of flying to Hasetsu and knocking on his door, there’s not much you can do at this point.

 

Victor: I suppose. Thanks, Phichit. For everything.

 

He sighed and stroked Makkachin’s ears. He would have to wait. He wasn’t good at waiting. But what was it that Phichit said?

 

Victor had an idea.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri was having a bad day. Scratch that- a bad month. Bad season. Bad year? Any way you measured it, it was not a good time for Yuuri. He hurt, all the time. It was hard to find a comfortable position to sleep in, so he was tired all the time too. On top of the tired that comes from multiple rib fractures and bruising. And almost dying. Plus, he had recently stopped taking prescription pain killers because he didn’t want to become addicted to them. So, his pain management was left to over-the-counter medicine and cold packs. It helped. Kind of. He knew he would get better eventually. But whenever the pain seemed to start to lesson, he would bend in a weird way and pull something so it hurt again. Breathing deep hurt, but he had to take deep breaths periodically, the doctor said. If he constricted his breathing, he could collapse part of a lung, which he was sure would hurt worse.

 

On top of it all, Vicchan’s absence was felt in every room of the house. He still couldn’t believe his beloved dog was gone. He could picture him lying on his bed, eating from a bowl in the kitchen, chasing birds in the gardens outside. It was impossible not to miss his dog. Couple this with his disappointment in his skating career, and he was in for a bad mood on top of the pain. Most days Yuuri stayed in his room, listening to music or reading, trying to forget all the bad things that had happened recently. This was hard with the constant dull ache in his chest.

 

Yuuri looked outside and noticed it was snowing. Normally, when he was healthy, he would be in charge of shoveling the sidewalks. Now he couldn’t even do that. He was useless, out of commission like a pair of dull skates. He hoped he could sharpen himself back into working condition.

 

His eyes drifted listlessly around his room. Victor’s face covered every wall. Victor… of all the people for him to collide with, it just _had_ to be him, didn’t it? Yuuri wasn’t mad at Victor, not at all. Accidents happen. No, better descriptors for his feelings were _embarrassed, humiliated, ashamed, want-to-hide-under-a-rock_. Logically, Yuuri knew that the accident wasn’t his fault, but he hated that his idol saw him in such a state. It was bad enough looking weak in front of the whole world, but to have the man he had had a crush on for years there too? Yuuri had half a mind to take down all of his posters, so Victor’s face wouldn’t see him looking weak at home too. He couldn’t quite work up the energy to do that just yet.

 

Minako told Yuuri that Victor had visited him while he was in the hospital. Yuuri didn’t know if he should feel honored or horrified. He didn’t remember _anything_ about that visit, but apparently he was awake and talking, and who knows what he said? Did he gush about how he looked up to him and had borderline stalked him for years? Or did he yell at him for mistaking him as a fan after the Grand Prix final? Or had he babbled incoherently? The third option honestly seemed the best to Yuuri. Maybe he had just spoked in Japanese so Victor had no idea. He could only hope. At last, his idol had finally recognized him as a skater, but under the worst possible circumstances. Victor would never see him as an equal now.

 

Yuuri sighed, shaking away his thoughts for the time being, and glanced at the clock. He hadn’t had much appetite lately, but he knew he needed to eat to keep up what little energy he had and help his body heal. He braced himself as he rose from his bed, then made his way toward the kitchen. After the first minute or so, the pain lessened. Moving around helped loosen his stiff muscles.

 

Suddenly a dog bounced past him, then turned to give him a sniff. It was a large poodle with curly brown fur. “Vicchhan?” Yuuri wondered aloud, but no, Vicchan was gone. Why was there another poodle at the inn? Did a customer bring him?

 

“Sorry! Sorry!” called a silver-haired man, running after the dog. Mari was not far behind him. He attached a leash to the dog’s collar, saying, “He likes to run free, but I don’t want him to bother anyone.” _Russian accent?_ Yuuri wondered, then arctic-blue eyes met his, and a jolt of recognition ran through Yuuri’s body.

 

What in the world?

 

“Victor?” Yuuri asked, disbelieving, “What are you doing here?”

 

“Yuuri? Yuuri! Hello!” Victor stood up, keeping a firm grip on the leash, though were his hands trembling slightly? “It’s good to see you again! You’re looking so much better!”

 

Yuuri shuffled awkwardly back a few steps from Victor and the dog. Looking better. Right. Not-almost-dead was probably a better look, but Yuuri’s stomach churned remembering how Victor had seen him before. As bad as he still looked, the first few days after the injury were much worse. “Um, thanks. What are you doing here?” he repeated.

 

“I’ve come for a visit in Hasetsu!” Victor’s eyes twinkled at Yuuri with an unexpected warmth. Yuuri couldn’t understand the look. A visit? Here?

 

“Oh, welcome,” he said simply. “How long are you staying?”

 

 “I was planning indefinitely, since starting today, I’m your new coach. You’re going to make the Grand Prix Final, and you’re going to win.” He winked, smile spreading across his face.

 

Huh?

 

“I’m sorry, what?” He must have misheard the Russian.

 

“You need a new coach since you moved back to Japan, so here I am!” Victor continued his adoring smile that Yuuri could not comprehend. He glanced and Mari, who shrugged, smirking at the pair.

 

“Uh… that’s, that’s really thoughtful Victor,” Yuuri bit his lip, “But I’m not sure if I’ll skate next season.”

 

“What?” Victor’s smile faltered. “Don’t be silly, you have plenty of time to recover and learn new routines. It’s only the beginning of March.”

 

“It’s not, it’s not just that.” Yuuri felt his cheeks flare red. “It wasn’t a great season for 

me, so maybe it’s time to… quit while I’m ahead?”

 

To his surprise, Victor laughed. “You’re so modest Yuuri. You’re going to do great.”

 

Yuuri glanced at Mari again. _Help_. She didn’t, so Yuuri had to swallow down his anxiety

and tell Victor, “I really appreciate what you’re doing, but you don’t need to do this. You don’t have to coach me because you feel guilty about what happened.”

 

Victor’s brows furrowed. His smile was gone. “What? Yuuri-“

 

“Hey, I have to go take care of …things. I hope you can enjoy the onsen so I didn’t, didn’t waste your time.” Yuuri shuffled off as quickly as he could toward the kitchen, leaving Victor staring, open-mouthed, after him.

 

* * *

 

 

What the what?

 

Yuuri had not at all reacted how Victor expected. “Is he serious?” he asked Mari. She shrugged and told him, “It’s his skating career. His decision. I try to stay out of it so I don’t pressure him either way.”

 

Well this was a lovely mess.

 

On second thought, showing up unannounced and declaring himself Yuuri’s coach may not have been the best idea. But Yuuri _had_ asked him to coach him at the banquet…

 

Mari helped Victor find his room and get settled in, bringing a dish of water for Makkachin. He was glad the family was comfortable around dogs. He couldn’t bear to leave him in the city for months at a time.

 

“Do you know where Yuuri is?” he asked Mari as she got ready to leave.

 

“Probably in the kitchen. He hasn’t eaten much yet today.”

 

“Is it okay if I go in and talk to him?”

 

“Sure. Don’t be surprised if he tries to bail again, though.”

 

Victor gathered up his courage and followed Mari’s directions for the kitchen. He was

saddened by Yuuri’s view of himself. _It wasn’t a great season for me_. He had made it to the Grand Prix Final, hadn’t he? Victor remembered his words back in the hospital. _I wasn’t going to win_. Such conviction in his lack of ability.

  
Victor knocked on the doorframe as he entered the kitchen. Yuuri was sitting at a table, pushing rice around in a bowl with a pair of chopsticks. He looked up, surprised at Victor’s entrance. His brown eyes were much more alert than the last time Victor saw him. However, he could see the dark circles beneath his eyes and the way he braced himself as he sat. Victor’s guilt flared in his chest again. This pain was his fault.

 

“Hi, Yuuri. Can I sit with you?” Yuuri nodded, and Victor sat across the table from him. Yuuri didn’t seem to know where to look. He glanced at Victor a few times, then settled back on his chopsticks.

 

“I’m sorry if I came on really strong back there. I can be a bit… enthusiastic at times,” he began.

 

“It was unexpected,” Yuuri said softly, still looking at his bowl.

 

“I didn’t know how else to contact you, so…”

 

“So you came all the way to Japan?” Victor worried that he had upset Yuuri, but he was finally looking at Victor again, almost smiling.

 

“Like I said, enthusiastic.”

 

Yuuri looked around. “Are you hungry? We have more rice in the fridge. You can help yourself.” Victor had to admit that he was hungry from the long trip, so he got himself a bowl as well.

 

“You really don’t have to do this though,” Yuuri said as Victor sat down again. “Mari said you visited when I was in the hospital, so that’s really more than enough. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

 

“So you don’t remember me being there?” Yuuri shook his head. “Do you remember the…accident?” Thankfully, Yuuri shook his head again. “Honestly, the whole event is kind of a blur,” he explained to Victor.

 

“Wait- do you remember _any_ of the Olympics?”

 

“Some of it! Mostly the opening ceremony, that was a few days before…it…happened.”

 

“Do you remember doing your short program?”

 

“Uh… not really? A few patchy things.”

 

Oh no. Oh no. Competing in the Olympics was often a once-in-a-lifetime event. He had prevented Yuuri from doing his free skate, and nearly obliterated his memories of the short program. His mess just kept getting bigger and bigger.

 

“Yuuri, I am so, _so_ sorry about everything. I can’t even imagine-“

 

“Stop!” Yuuri was flustered again. “It’s really okay, I already told you you don’t have to apologize anymore.”

 

Victor sighed. “I know. I just wish I could redo it all.” He became lost in thought for a moment.

 

Yuuri, seemingly braver now that they had been talking for a while, suddenly asked, “Victor, why are you here? You don’t really want to coach. Do you?”

 

This startled Victor. “What? Of course I do! I was serious with my offer.”

 

“Okay, but… why me? I’m sure the junior skater on your team is a promising student, and he’s a lot closer to home for you, and…”

 

“Why you?” _Because I can’t stop thinking about you_. “Because you move me, Yuuri. The way you move on the ice-it’s like you’re creating the music with your body. I’ve never seen anyone skate the way you do.”

 

Victor was pleased to see Yuuri’s cheeks blush furiously at this comment. But Yuuri scoffed and said, “Are you sure you weren’t watching someone else? I flubbed the jumps in all the performances you would have seen.”

 

Victor sighed and pulled out his phone. “Don’t be mad at Phichit, but he sent me this video.”

 

“What video? And you’ve been talking to Phichit? What?” Victor handed him his phone with the video of Yuuri skating _Stay Close to Me_. Yuuri’s face somehow grew even more red as the video progressed. “I didn’t know Phichit filmed that,” he whispered, covering his face in his hands when he handed back the phone.

 

“I’m glad he did,” Victor said sincerely. Yuuri peeked at him between his fingers. “That was the most expressive performance I have ever seen, Yuuri.” Yuuri seemed at a loss for words.

 

“Listen, Yuuri,” Victor said, placing a hand on Yuuri’s arm across the table. “The decision about your skating career is yours. I get that. But will you please promise to at least think about continuing? And having me as your coach?”

 

Yuuri lowered his hands from his face and gave a small nod. “Okay. I mean, I’ll think about it.”

 

“Great!” Victor flashed him a wide smile and stood up. “While you’re thinking about it, how about I stick around Hasetsu? You can show me all the sites. And a visit to the onsen would be nice too.” He winked at Yuuri. Yuuri’s face was possibly the deepest shade of red known to man as Victor left the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing some POV switching in this fic. I hope it's not confusing! 
> 
> Yuuri's experience with bruised ribs is loosely based on my experience with pneumonia this winter where I pulled some ribs (it hurt a lot and took forever to heal). Not really the same injury, but his is worse than what I had, so extrapolating some. 
> 
> Thanks so much for everyone's support! <3 I'm planning to post the next chapter on Sunday.


	4. Decision

It took a few days for Yuuri to accept that Victor was really here for him. At first, he planned to avoid Victor as much as possible. There was no way _the_ Victor Nikiforov wanted to spend time with Grand Prix mess-up Katsuki Yuuri. This was all out of some sense of guilt or charity, so Yuuri just had to wait it out until he got bored and went home. There was no sense in getting needlessly attached to the man (more than he already was, what with all the time he had spent over the past 12 years watching every skate of Victor’s on repeat).

 

But, Victor had other plans. Yuuri would make an excuse to leave the room if Victor entered it, but Victor would always come find him again a short while later. If Yuuri retreated to his bedroom, Victor would knock and invite him to come watch a movie, or ask him to translate something, or show him how to use the coffee maker. There was always something that Victor needed from Yuuri. So, Yuuri started taking Victor up on his requests. They dusted off the old coffee maker and laughed at its feeble attempts to brew something drinkable (Yuuri’s family almost always drank tea instead of coffee). They watched an ancient Japanese comedy with horrible (but hilarious) English dubs so Victor could understand.

 

While they did this, Yuuri tried to hide the lingering pain. He and Victor could hang out. But no way would Victor see him as weak again. Victor was frustratingly perceptive, however. If Yuuri grimaced or clenched his fist for a moment, he would ask how Yuuri was doing. Yuuri always said he was fine. But, one evening, the pain crept high enough to distract Yuuri from the movie they were watching, and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. He tried to force himself to breathe evenly so as to not let on to his physical state.

 

Victor looked at him. “You’re in pain.” It was not a question.  


“I’m fine,” Yuuri said between clenched teeth.

 

“No, you’re not.” Victor scooted closer to him on the couch, eyes full of concern. “You don’t have to hide it, Yuuri,” he said gently.

 

“I don’t want to look weak!” Yuuri gasped. Oh no, had he said that aloud? The pain was bubbling up so that he was losing his mental filter.

 

To his surprise, Victor leaned closer and brushed his hair back, a tender movement to match his expression. “I don’t think you’re weak, Yuuri,” he said. No trace of sarcasm or mimicry. He was telling the truth. Yuuri relaxed slightly, releasing the tension from trying to conceal the fire in his ribs. “What can I do to help?” Victor asked, and Yuuri gave him instructions for where to find his pain medicine and an ice pack. Victor gathered these things quickly and brought them back to Yuuri. Victor stayed near Yuuri for the rest of the evening, getting him a fresh ice pack when needed, and telling him stories about Russia to distract him. Finally, Yuuri began to let down his guard and think that it may just be possible, against all human reason, that Victor really wanted to be there with him.

 

* * *

 

 

From then on, having Victor around changed everything. The previous three weeks had dragged by in a haze of gray, but with Victor, everything was in color again. Sure, Yuuri was still in pain, and still very tired, but he didn’t notice it as much anymore. Victor was never too far away with something to distract Yuuri from his thoughts.

 

Victor wanted to experience anything and everything that Hasetsu had to offer. Yuuri was not up for trips out of the family inn yet, so he usually started the morning by giving Victor suggestions of places to go. Victor usually begged him to come too, offering to carry him piggy-back style if necessary. Yuuri always refused, though he was beginning to seriously reconsider the idea. More often than not, Victor arrived back at lunch with take-out from a nearby restaurant, always with more than enough to share with Yuuri. He took hundreds of photos, and insisted on showing them to Yuuri even though he had lived in Hasetsu most of his life and knew all the locations already. Still, Yuuri never got bored of Victor gushing about the sites. He always had an interesting perspective, and it was neat to see the little town through fresh eyes.

 

And speaking of fresh eyes… Yuuri couldn’t help but notice the way Victor looked at him. And he looked at Yuuri _a lot_. The first few days, he had thought it was the look of someone pitying him because of his injury, like he had received from so many people recently. But no, there was something more to it. Admiration? Adoration? Yuuri couldn’t quite describe it. But somehow, Victor looked at him like he brightened his world. Which was crazy. It was the other way around. There was no way that he, the dime-a-dozen skater, could bring such joy to Victor’s face.

 

Yuuri expected Victor to pressure him to make a decision about skating, but he didn’t. He rarely brought up skating at all, nevermind next season. He didn’t talk about the incident either, which Yuuri appreciated. After discussing it at length with friends and family, Yuuri thought he would puke if he had to relive it one more time. Victor just molded into Yuuri’s life and…let him be. No expectations, no pressures. With Victor, he was just Yuuri, but not in a bad way. He was just Yuuri, and Victor seemed perfectly happy that he was just Yuuri. Yuuri never expected to feel so comfortable and natural around his childhood idol.

 

After a week or so of this routine, Victor began to ask Yuuri deeper questions about himself and his family. They were sitting by themselves in the kitchen, when Victor asked him out of the blue, “Yuuri, I forgot to ask-do you have a girlfriend?”

 

“What?” Yuuri wasn’t prepared for this question and was instantly flustered. “Uh, haha… no.”

 

“Oh, okay. A boyfriend then?”

 

“Ah, no. No one.” He twisted his hands in his lap.

 

“Okay, then what about past lovers? Yuuko, perhaps?”

 

Yuuri’s entire face was scarlet as he mumbled, “No, there’s no one. Ah, no one past or present.”

 

“You’re kidding! No past lovers? Let’s talk about mine then. Let’s see, first there was-“

 

“Ah! Stop! That’s okay! I-I-I don’t need to know!” Victor laughed as Yuuri made an excuse about forgetting something in his room and bolted. This was a conversation he did not want to have. Especially not with his crush. _Former, childhood, crush_ , he reminded himself.

 

But was it his imagination, or was Victor more… affectionate after that discussion?

 

It was subtle, really, at least at first. He sat a little closer to Yuuri when he made his plans

for the day. He patted Yuuri’s arm when Yuuri made him laugh. (Yuuri still couldn’t believe that _he_ could make _Victor_ laugh). When Yuuri forgot to take his pain medicine, Victor rubbed his back to help him breathe and relax until the new dose kicked in. He casually brushed Yuuri’s hair out of his face when they were watching silly videos on the internet. Small things, but growing more frequent every day.

 

One night, Yuuri was surprised when Victor knocked on his door. “Yuuri!” he called to him. “Let’s have a slumber party!”

 

Yuuri looked around his room. First of all, it was a mess. He hadn’t been good about cleaning it since the incident. He hadn’t even unpacked from his trip to the Olympics. But most importantly, his walls were still covered in posters of Victor himself. No way could he let Victor see all this.

 

“Uh, no! That’s okay! I, uh, toss and turn too much, it’ll just keep you up all night,” Yuuri tried to explain through the door, as he frantically began pulling the posters off the walls. The twisting and stretching hurt Yuuri’s chest, but not as much as it would have when Victor first arrived.

 

“Nonsense! I sleep like a log. It’ll be a great way to get to know each other!”

 

“Just a minute!” Yuuri yelled. Eight more posters to go…

 

“Yuuri! I’m waiting, open up!”

 

“I’m, uh, getting dressed right now!”

 

“So? I don’t see what the problem is?”

 

Wait, what? Nevermind, three more posters to go…

 

“Why don’t you go get us some tea or something while I get ready?” Yuuri desperately groaned.

 

“Fine, Yuuri. I’ll see you soon!”

 

Oh thank goodness. The posters were down and unceremoniously rolled and placed in his closet. Now for the rest of the room. He quickly tried to stuff things into bags, under the bed, into the closet, something to make it look like he wasn’t a total disaster. By the time Victor arrived again, the room was reasonably clean. If you didn’t check the hiding spaces.

 

Yuuri threw open the door, trying not to look out of breath. “Yuuri! At last!” Victor pushed his way into Yuuri’s room, carrying a blanket, pillow, and a tray with tea cups. How did he manage to balance so many objects? They sat on the floor and drank tea for a while, Yuuri blushing furiously when their hands grazed reaching for the teapot at the same time. Did Victor’s hand linger on his for a moment? No, no, it’s all in his imagination. Wishful thinking about a childhood crush.

 

“So where did you put it?” Victor asked, looking around Yuuri’s room.

 

“Where did I put what?”

 

“The medal I gave you. Is it in here, or someplace special? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

 

“Um. What medal?”

 

Victor raised an eyebrow. “The gold medal I gave you in the hospital? My medal from the Olympics?”

 

“You WHAT?”

 

“I forgot you didn’t remember. But didn’t Minako or someone show it to you later?”

 

“Uh… no one ever mentioned a medal to me.” Oh no. Had he somehow lost Victor’s gold medal?

 

“It was in a pale blue bag? About this big?” Victor gestured with his hands.

 

“I don’t…I don’t know. I’m sorry! Here, I’ll text Minako and Mari and see if they remember it.” Yuuri’s phone was next to his computer. He still hadn’t looked at it since before the free skate, but he had charged it a few days ago. He turned it on, trying not to panic as it slowly lit up and did the intro sequence. Why was it so slow? It finally came to the home screen, then pinged with incoming messages. He had hundreds of unread texts and voicemails. Oh, no…

 

“Wow, you have been ignoring a lot of people,” Victor teased as he looked over Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri opened the messaging system. Most of the messages were from the first few days after the accident. There were more recent ones, mostly the 200+ unread ones from Phichit. Oh, poor Phichit. He must be so concerned since Yuuri never got back to him. He made a mental note to read through and respond ASAP. There were three from an unknown number towards the top of the list. He started a new message for Mari and Minako, asking if they knew anything about a small blue bag. Minako responded first.

 

Minako: Maybe? It’s probably packed with the rest of your things. We did a thorough room check before we left. Check there.

 

Yuuri glanced around his room. Where had he stuffed his un-opened competition bag?

 

“This might take a minute,” he said sheepishly. Victor looked amused. Yuuri first poked his head under his bed, but it wasn’t there. He sighed and tried the closet. So much for hiding his mess from Victor. After much prodding around (and ignoring the growing fire in his ribs), Yuuri pulled out his duffle bag.

 

“You never unpacked after the games?” Victor laughed. Yuuri rolled his eyes and opened his duffle bag. Sure enough, under a few t-shirts, there was a blue cloth bag that Yuuri had never seen before. Didn’t remember seeing before, anyway. He pulled it out.

 

“Is this it?” Victor nodded, gesturing at Yuuri to open it. Yuuri carefully unfolded the protective cloths, then pulled out a gleaming gold medal on a ribbon. A small note fluttered to the floor between the two skaters.

 

“I can’t believe I don’t remember getting this,” he breathed, glancing between Victor and the medal. “Victor, this is too much! You earned this! I-I can’t take this from you.” He held it out to Victor.

 

Victor laughed and clasped Yuuri’s hands in his around the ribbon. “That’s what you said last time. I _want_ you to have it.”

 

“But, I didn’t win anything, I wasn’t going to win even if I did compete Victor…” Yuuri couldn’t meet Victor’s gaze. Victor gently touched Yuuri’s cheek and tilted his chin up so he was looking right into his eyes. Yuuri forgot how to breathe. Victor’s stare was intense, and he could feel the heat of every millimeter of Victor’s skin on his.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor said, voice barely above a whisper, “This isn’t about winning or losing. Or even competing. I gave it to you to show that I care about you and acknowledge that I hurt you. I have never been more afraid in my life than when I realized your heart had stopped. I didn’t want to complete the competition, but your friend told me to, for your sake. I skated my program for you. I won because of _you_. This belongs as much to you as it does to me. So please, please take it.”

 

Yuuri was stunned, speechless. He watched in awe as Victor pressed the medal back to him, resting their hands against his chest. Yuuri’s heart was jumping, trying to escape from his chest. Victor spread his fingers out slightly across Yuuri’s sternum and smiled. “It’s good to feel your heart beating,” he whispered, as if to himself. He locked eyes with Yuuri again. He was so close. Too close. If either of them leaned in closer, they would be kissing. Yuuri’s heart accelerated at the thought, and heat rose in his cheeks again, wondering if Victor knew what he was thinking. What was Victor thinking? Did he… did he want to, too?

 

_Ping!_

 

Yuuri’s phone chimed and they broke apart, the moment, whatever it was, over. He scrambled back, embarrassed, and clutched at his phone.

 

Mari: Did you find it in your mess of a room yet?

 

Yuuri groaned slightly and let the pair know that yes, he had found it. When he looked up, Victor had hung the medal on the hook that usually bore his coat. “There,” he said with a tone of finality. “This will do for now.”

 

Yuuri nodded. Victor spied the note on the ground next to Yuuri’s knees and picked it up. “I guess this explains why you never called me,” he said.

 

“What?” Yuuri leaned forward to grab the paper out of Victor’s hands. He groaned again. “Sorry. I didn’t feel like unpacking when I first got home and then forgot all about it. I never saw this. Sorry.”

 

Victor shrugged. “It all worked out. It’s okay.”

 

Yuuri tried to stifle a yawn. He had stayed up much later than usual talking to Victor. Victor noticed immediately, of course. “Time for bed,” he announced.

 

Victor made a space for himself on the floor by Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri made to remove his sweatshirt, but accidentally caught his shirt and almost peeled it off as well. He heard Victor’s gasp, and he mentally groaned to himself. He had not meant for Victor to see the state of his body.

 

“It’s not that bad!” he tried to assure Victor, yanking his shirt back down. “The bruises take a while to fade, it’s really okay.”

 

“Oh Yuuri,” Victor whispered, covering his mouth with his hand. Was he tearing up?

 

“Victor, it’s fine.”

 

“I knew about the bruises, but what are those red marks?”

 

Yuuri sighed and sat down on his bed. “You mean the ones here, and here?” he asked, gesturing to his left side and middle of his chest.

 

“Yes, those aren’t bruises, those look like old burns!”

 

Yuuri nodded slowly. “That’s because they are. It’s from the defibrillator they used to restart my heart.”

 

“That looks painful.”

 

“It isn’t anymore. It looks bad, but it’s just a scar now. It will fade over time.”

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize.”

 

“Don’t be. Those scars, they saved my life. The bruises too. I can’t resent them, because I wouldn’t be here without them.”

 

Victor gave him a watery smile. He wasn’t quite crying, but he was close. He looked at Yuuri like he never wanted to look away. Yuuri wasn’t sure he wanted him to. But, it was late, and he was still tired. “Get some sleep, Victor,” he said gently.

 

“Da.” Victor curled up underneath his blankets. “Goodnight, Yuuri.”

 

“Goodnight, Victor.” Yuuri switched off the lamp by his bed, enveloping them in darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri couldn’t sleep. He was too keyed up having Victor by his side. He tossed and turned for a bit, while Victor’s breathing grew slower and deeper. He really could sleep through anything. Finally, too restless to keep trying to sleep, Yuuri picked up his phone and read through Phichit’s messages to him.

 

Phichit: I’m so glad you’re okay. I know you’ll be taking a media break for a while, but I’m going to keep texting you anyway. You will have a novel by the time you get back.

 

Several texts about hamsters followed, complete with pictures of the trio he owned.

 

Phichit: Did I tell you I got Victor Nikivorof’s phone number? Here, I’ll send it to you.

 

Phichit: Dying on the ice is a really unconventional way to get someone’s phone number, by the way. Next time, try talking to them.

 

Phichit: He came and visited you in the hospital right? You HAVE to let me know how that went.

 

More texts about hamsters, and some updates on living in Detroit.

 

Phichit: OMG Victor is texting me about you!

 

Phichit: Awh man, he’s a mess. He really thinks you hate him for hurting you since you haven’t called him.

 

Phichit: I’m trying to tell him to calm down, but he won’t listen.

 

Phichit: Okay, I’m going to have to pull out my ace. This man is needy.

 

Phichit: I sent him this video. Please don’t hate me.

 

Yuuri recognized the link to the video of him skating Victor’s routine.

 

Phichit: HAHA OMG HE LOVES IT

 

Phichit: You have a new fan Yuuri!

 

Phichit: Haha, he really wants to meet you now! I gave him your phone number, but I told him he has to wait, and he is NOT happy.

 

A few hours later:

Phichit: Okay, Victor just asked for your address in Hasetsu.

 

Phichit: He says he’s going to write you a letter, but there’s a 50% chance he’s about to show up on your doorstep.

 

Phichit: Don’t say I didn’t warn you!!

 

Yuuri checked the messages from the unknown number. Sure enough, they were from Victor.

 

Unknown: Hi Yuuri, this is Victor. I wanted to check in and see how you are doing. I also wanted to make sure you have my number. Call me sometime?

 

Unknown (20 minutes later): Hi Yuuri! I was thinking I would come visit Hasetsu. I heard it’s really beautiful there. Does that sound okay to you?

 

Unknown (80 minutes later): I’m flying in through Tokyo in a few days! See you soon, Yuuri!

 

Yuuri looked down at his floor, barely able to make out Victor’s form in the darkness. A smile crept across his face. Victor had gone through a lot of trouble just to find him. A warm feeling flooded his chest as he thought about the last few weeks with Victor. Despite everything that had happened to him recently, Yuuri was happy. Victor was here for _him_ , and he was happy.

 

Yuuri shot a few texts back to Phichit:

 

Yuuri: Hi, Phichit. Sorry for the late responses. I’m back on the grid. How are you?

 

Yuuri: You were right, by the way. Victor showed up a few weeks ago. He’s been staying here. He’s actually been really helpful to have around while I recover.

 

Yuuri: We’ll have to catch up soon. Text me and we can figure out a time to video chat.

 

Yuuri put his phone away and leaned back, ready to sleep but still unable to get comfortable. All the activity of putting things away and then digging them out again had put a lot of pressure on his ribs, and there was a slow burning sensation around his ribs. He tried a different position, and couldn’t help but cry out as the pain flared. He shifted around some more, but each movement sent a new flame into his chest.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

Oh no, he had woken Victor. Yuuri didn’t like people to see him when he was weak. He didn’t want Victor to see him like this.

 

“Yuuri, are you okay?” Victor’s sleepy voice was near his ear.

 

“It’s fine,” he grunted. “Just can’t get comfortable.”

 

“Can I do anything?”

 

“Not really. Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep.”

 

Victor laid back down, but reached up and took Yuuri’s hand. The pressure focused Yuuri’s mind away from his injuries. He slowly relaxed as his pain receded to the back of his thoughts. Yuuri slipped into sleep, still clutching Victor’s hand in his.

          

* * *

 

 

The next day, Yuuri had a follow-up appointment with his doctor. The doctor examined him thoroughly, then declared he was fit to start doing more activities. “You can return to skating, but no jumps yet,” he cautioned, "And take it slow to start with."  Yuuri nodded solemnly.

 

He thought long and hard about skating as he took the cab home. He had almost died skating. He could get injured again. If the events at the Olympics had taught him anything, it was that life was short. Returning to skating was terrifying after knowing the risks.

 

But then again, life is short.

 

Yuuri found Victor in his guest room, flipping through a magazine. He knocked.

 

“Victor?” Victor glanced up, opening his mouth to ask how his appointment went. Yuuri cut him off.

 

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yurio shows up and throws a wrench in everyone's plans.

Victor fidgeted with his gloves as Yuuri tied his skates. He was more nervous than he cared to admit. He knew that Yuuri had skated thousands of times _without_ dying, but this was his first time back since his injury.

 

Victor jumped as the door burst open and three tiny people came running at them, followed by Yuuko. The three children latched onto Yuuri like barnacles on a boat, speaking in rapid Japanese. “Yuuko’s triplets,” Yuuri explained to Victor, “They’re happy to see me back.”

 

“Sorry Yuuri!” Yukko said. “Girls, give him room to breathe!”

 

They peeled themselves off of Yuuri, then spotted Victor. They squealed and pulled out their phones, pulling Victor down to take dozens of selfies with them. Yuuko tried to make them stop, but Victor laughed and told her it was okay. It was adorable to have such tiny fans.

 

Victor saw Yuuri head toward the rink and quickly jumped up so he could follow. After removing the skate guards, Yuuri drew a deep breath, then slowly glided out onto the ice, Victor just a few inches away. “If you need to steady yourself, you can take my arm,” Victor offered.  

 

Yuuri spun around to face him. “I’m a professional skater, not a beginner, Victor. And besides, _I’m_ not the one who caused the accident.”

 

Victor started to apologize again, then noticed the teasing look in Yuuri’s eyes. “You said we were all good!” Victor teased back, “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

 

“Just because I forgive you doesn’t mean I’ll let you forget it!” Yuuri spun around again and glided gracefully away from Victor toward the center of the rink. Victor watched him with what had to be a dopey grin. Since when did Yuuri tease him?

 

They skated for about an hour, while Yuuko and the triplets watched. At that point, Victor called it quits for the day, not wanting to push Yuuri too hard on his first day back. He was delighted to see how natural Yuuri appeared on the ice, especially after the long break. Yuuri was more confident too, joking with Victor and initiating touches to pull Victor along with him or push him away when he was hovering too close.

 

Victor was going to enjoy being Yuuri’s coach.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri knew his good luck would run out.

 

Everything had been going so well. He was finally back on the ice, conquering his anxiety about returning. He was enjoying his time with Victor. He finally felt comfortable going for walks around Hasetsu without pain in his side.

 

Then the young Russian punk had to come and ruin it all.

 

It was his fifth day back in action. Yuuri was working on building up his stamina again, and practicing some step-sequences. He almost never fell during these exercises, so he wasn’t at risk of re- injuring himself. Victor was laughing at him as he struck a silly pose, when suddenly the door flew open with a bang, startling the pair and causing Yuuri to slip. He grabbed at Victor’s arm, and Victor caught him and held him steady. Then the blond teen stormed in to view and demanded to speak with Victor.

 

“Hello, Yuri!” Victor greeted him cheerfully as he skated to the edge. “What a pleasant surprise!”

 

“What the _hell_ are you doing here, Victor?” the other Yuri growled.

 

“It’s so good to see you again, what brings you to Hasetsu?” Victor continued pleasantly, ignoring Yuri’s question. This did not go over well with the teen. He shoved his phone in Victor’s face.

 

“What is this?” he demanded.

 

Victor took the phone, then laughed. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory!”

 

Yuuri stood a few feet away, but he recognized the picture on Yuri’s phone. It was of him and Victor together on the ice on Victor’s Instagram, with the caption: Look who’s back! #katsukiyuuri #coaching #proudcoach. Yuri had come all the way here over an Instagram post? This kid was intense…

 

“What the hell, Victor?” Yuri demanded again. “Did you forget our agreement?”

 

Victor thought for a moment. “I get the feeling I forgot to do something I said I would do. I do that sometimes. What was it, Yuri?”

 

Younger Yuri huffed. “You said you would choreograph a program for me if I won juniors! I’m here for my program!”

 

“Oh, I see. I did agree to do that, didn’t I?” Victor smiled at him.

 

“Yes! So stop playing coach with this loser and come back to Russia!”

 

Yuuri swallowed hard, wishing he could disappear from this scene. It was one thing for Yuri to call him a loser in the bathroom out of view. It was another for him to say it to Victor’s face. Did Victor know about him crying in the bathroom after the Grand Prix Final? Would Victor realize the mistaken faith he had placed in him now that a more promising student had shown up?

 

“Now Yuri, there’s no need to be rude,” Victor warned the younger Russian calmly.

 

“Oh really? I don’t want you to give away MY program to him!” Yuri gestured toward Yuuri, who wished the ice rink would crack open and swallow him up.

 

Victor patted Yuri on the shoulder. “There’s no need to worry about that, Yuri.” Wait- what did Victor mean by that? Yuuri’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch.

 

 “Does Yakov know you’re here?” Victor continued.

 

“No! Well, he does now after stalking my Instagram. But that doesn’t matter!”

 

“Did you tell anyone you were coming here? Mila? Your grandpa?”

 

“No! I came here on my own before anyone could stop me.”

 

Victor contemplated the other skater for a moment. “You are poorly supervised,” he observed.

 

“I’m not a child!”

 

“But you’re not an adult either.” Victor pulled out his phone and began drafting a text. “I’ll let Yakov know that I’m looking out for you while you travel to foreign countries on a whim.”

 

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

 

“Sure. I know.” Victor turned and sent a wink to Yuuri. But Yuuri was across the rink a ways, attempting to leave through a different exit. “Yuuri! Where are you going?” Victor called to him. “Let’s go eat lunch with Yuri!”

 

This was the last thing Yuuri wanted to do, but he didn’t see a way out of it. So they proceeded to take Yuri into the family inn, where Minako, Mari, and the rest of the family gushed over him. Yuri was quickly given the nickname _Yurio_ to avoid confusion, which he hated immensely. Yurio’s rage secretly pleased Yuuri. He didn’t hold any ill-will towards the young skater, but maybe if they annoyed him enough, he would go back to Russia before Victor decided to switch students. But no, Yurio didn’t leave. His family gave him a room, and he insisted on staying until he got his short program from Victor.

 

To make matters worse, his mother decided to serve Katsudon that day in honor of all their foreign guests. Normally this would be the highlight of Yuuri’s day, but his mother gushed about how it was Yuuri’s favorite food and how he ate it after winning competitions. “You must not eat it very often,” the younger Yuri smirked, looking to Victor like he was sharing an inside joke with him. Victor’s face remained neutral as he stared ahead. What was he thinking? Was he agreeing, but too polite to show it? It’s probably rude to make fun of someone you almost killed…

 

Yuuri could feel the panic begin to swell in his stomach, and he stood up suddenly. Everyone’s eyes locked onto him, making matters worse. “I’ve got to…go, take care of…things…” he mumbled, darting away and leaving his pork cutlet bowl half-finished. He heard Victor call after him, but he was already out of the room. He decided to risk a jog to move himself out of there quickly. The rapid movements jostled his ribs, but he couldn’t care at the moment. He pried open his bedroom door and then slammed it shut behind him, diving under the covers of his bed. Safe, away from judgmental eyes. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, eventually falling into an uneasy doze.

 

Yuuri kept to himself for the rest of the day. Victor didn’t come knock at his door. He didn’t really want to see Victor, but he still wanted _Victor_ to want to see him. Yuuri knew he was being ridiculous, but the departure in their normal routine was still upsetting. He avoided the normal meal times (though both his mother and Mari did try to coax him out), instead sneaking down for dinner much later than usual with a rumbling stomach. Someone had put the remainder of his pork cutlet bowl in the fridge, so he heated it up and ate it by himself.

 

As Yuuri crept back to his room, he paused by Victor’s door. Victor was having a conversation with someone. _Probably colluding with the younger Russian already_ , Yuuri thought wistfully. But no, as he listened, he could only hear one side of the conversation. And, what language was that? Not Russian. French, maybe? Did Victor even speak French? Yuuri now wished he did, though he knew eavesdropping was rude. From the tone of voice, Victor sounded frustrated. What could that mean? Yuuri decided that he didn’t want to know, and then headed back to his room to get ready for bed.

 

He was surprised when there was a knock on his door a little while later, while he was still sitting up in bed reading.  
  
“Yuuri?” It was Victor.  
  
“Yeah?” he called back through the door.

 

A beat. “Can I come in?”  
  
“O-okay.”  
  
Victor gently opened the door and stepped inside, already in his pajamas as well. Yuuri couldn’t help but notice how magnificent he looked, wearing a black v-neck shirt and bathed in the soft gold light from his single lamp.  
  
“I wasn’t sure if you were awake, but I saw the light on…” he began, running his hand through his hair. “I tried this afternoon, but I think you were asleep.”  
  
Oh. He must have been more tired than he originally thought to sleep through that.

 

Victor sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “It’s been a long day for me. A lot to arrange.”  
  
Yuuri’s heart sank. “Oh?”  
  
“I’ve had around a million people calling me to check up on Yurio. Where were they _before_ he left the country? So now it’s _my_ job to make sure he has all the paperwork he needs. And someone faxed over a temporary guardian form? Is that even a thing? But if something happens to Yuri, he’s still a minor and would need an adult to handle a lot of things, so I guess that’s me.” Victor paused. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to go on a rant. I just didn’t expect to become a parent today,” he joked.

 

Huh. This was not what Yuuri was expecting him to say. “That sounds stressful,” Yuuri responded, and Victor nodded slightly. “I have no idea how to raise a teenager,” Victor continued. He winked at Yuuri, and Yuuri laughed a little, bringing a small smile to Victor’s face.

 

“Anyway, I just wanted to check in on your before going to bed. Are your ribs holding up okay after practice today?” Yuuri nodded. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early then.”  
  
“Okay. See you then.”

 

Victor turned to leave, then paused and looked back at Yuuri for a moment. “Oh- I saved the rest of your katsudon. I figured you would want to finish it, since it’s your favorite.” With one last sparkling smile, he pulled the door shut behind him.

 

Yuuri flicked off his light and curled up against his pillow. His chest protested somewhat, but it was the most comfortable position possible. Oh, how he longed for the day when the bruises were gone and he could sleep however he liked again. But, despite the continued pangs, he was smiling softly. Victor hadn’t been ignoring him after all. And had he just… sought out Yuuri to talk to to relieve some stress? Maybe things weren’t as bad as Yuuri had been imagining.

 

* * *

 

 

Or maybe things were a hundred times worse. Yuuri was growing tired of emotional whiplash.

 

He woke up early, which was never easy for him even before the accident, but he was determined to have a good start to the day. He was the first to the rink that day and enjoyed a few quiet moments gliding along the ice by himself. Then the other Yuri showed up and gave him the side-eye as he pulled off his skate guards and entered himself. He didn’t say a word, but he practiced several jumps, obviously showing off. Yuuri tried not to let it bother him. He expected this sort of thing from the teenage skater.

 

At last, Victor showed up too. Yurio sped toward the rink wall like lightening, as if racing Yuuri so he could get the first word in with Victor. As Yuuri trailed behind him, he noticed the dark circles under Victor’s eyes. He was also sporting a large coffee from the local shop. Had Victor not slept well last night? Yuuri was concerned, but also a little amused. He wouldn’t be surprised if Victor had stayed up all night Googling “I’m in charge of a teen please help.”  
  
Victor began to greet them both warmly, but Yuri cut him off. “Do I get my program today?” he demanded.  
  
Victor let the brash request roll off him. “I’m so glad you asked, Yurio!” Yuri scowled at the nick-name. “I do have your program. I have one for each of you! I stayed up almost all night choreographing them.” He beamed at them with his heart-shaped smile, and Yuuri’s own heart caught in his chest inadvertently.

 

Victor turned to the stereo set he had brought with them. “There’s a piece of music that I love and have been thinking about for a while, but there are two arrangements and I could never pick just one. With both of you here, I don’t have to! They have similar, but opposing themes. Let’s take a listen. First- _On Love: Agape_.” He pressed play, and the music began to flow. Beautiful, graceful, innocent, and almost haunting in a way. He paused it again. “What does it bring to mind?”  
  
Yuuri contemplated this for a moment. “It sounds innocent, like someone who has never experienced love before,” he said slowly.

 

“Good! Precisely. Agape- selfless love. Like the love of a parent, or God’s love.”

 

To his side, Yuri grumbled something in Russian under his breath and rolled his eyes.

 

“Now, onto the second arrangement! _On Love: Eros_.” Victor jumped to the next song. A lively, feisty tune arose from the speakers this time. Yuuri could just tell that it was the same melody, but the tone was completely different. “How about this one?” Victor asked.

 

“Uh-more like, like it’s uh, a couple that’s more involved, or, or romantic? Like they really want each other, or…” Yuuri flushed red, unable to finish. He couldn’t form a coherent thought on this topic around Victor, he realized, and he quickly cast his gaze towards the ground.

 

“Right again!” Victor said proudly. “Eros- passionate love. Pleasure.” Yuuri could hear the smile in Victor’s voice, but still could not look up at his face. From what he could tell out of the corner of his eye, Yuri was enjoying this arrangement a lot more.

 

Victor paused the tape again. “So- now to assign the arrangements!” Yuuri glanced up. Victor took a deep breath and grinned as he first pointed to Yuuri, then to Yurio. “You get Eros! You get Agape!”

 

Wait-what?

 

Who in their right mind would ever give _him_ Eros?

 

He would have assumed that he had misheard Victor, but Yurio looked equally outraged. He was starting to yell at Victor, while Yuuri was shrinking back into himself, blush creeping over his whole body. His mind had nearly gone blank, but he came back into the conversation.

 

“You can’t give me that baby song!” Yuri was raging at Victor, “It’s nothing like my style! Give it to wide-eyed loser!”  
  
“Now Yurio,” Victor said placatingly, “You should always try to surprise your audience. This gives you a challenge. Unless you think you’re not up for it?” Victor tilted his head and smiled innocently at the younger Russian.

 

“Fine! I’ll skate to the stupid Agape,” Yurio huffed, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at the radio.

 

“That’s the spirit,” Victor soothed. “How are you feeling, Yuuri?”

 

Oh no. _Like disappearing into the ice again_ , he wanted to say, but said instead, “Um. Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll skate with all the Eros I’ve got!”

 

Ahh! What was he saying? Stupid mouth got ahead of his brain and babbled… that! No, he was supposed to turn it down!  
  
“Excellent!” Well, at least Victor was happy. Yuuri’s couldn’t fathom trying to embody Eros alone, never mind with a whole stadium watching him. Or Victor. _Especially Victor_.

 

Yurio was huffing again as another thought hit him. “I want something out of this,” he fumed, “Let’s make this a competition. If I can skate better than the piggy, you’ll come back to Russia and coach me instead!”  
  
_What an impertinent request_ , Yuuri mused. Surely Victor wouldn’t give in to the whims of a petulant teen. But-

 

“A skate-off? Oh, I love this sort of thing!” Victor became quite animated. “But I’m surprised at you Yurio, your last dance-off didn’t go so well.” Victor smiled and winked at Yuuri, like they were sharing an inside joke. Well, whatever the joke was, Yuuri didn’t get it. His mind was too busy imploding on itself.  
  
“And what do you want Yuuri, if you win?” Victor asked.

 

Yuuri heard himself babble something about eating pork cutlet bowls and the resulting laugh from younger Yuri, but he was too far gone to worry about Yuri’s thoughts on his eating habits.

 

No, he was barely able to prevent the darkness from engulfing his mind, but he knew he had to keep it together until they got off the ice. But there was no denying it: Yuuri had been right all along. Victor didn’t want to be here after all. Now Yuri, a much more talented skater, had turned up and requested a skating competition, giving Victor the perfect excuse to finally leave when Yuri inevitably won. And Victor had taken him up on it without a moment’s hesitation. The idyllic image of his future with Victor that Yuuri had been forming shattered instantly into a thousand shards that pierced, breaking his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for that ending. I *did* promise and angsty, slow burn fic :) This chapter got away from me- I had to split it into two parts, and now even chapter 6 is looking pretty long. 
> 
> Apparently this fic also has turned into a slight Parent!Victor? When I was watching the show, it seemed to me like there were very few adults checking up on Yurio- I mean, he got all the way to Japan without Yakov even knowing. I suppose he may have told his grandpa, but still. I wanted to make sure someone was looking after him.


	6. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Have another chapter :)

Yuuri had no idea how he made it through practice that first day. Or why he still practiced, even though he was clearly going to lose. He supposed it was due to the honor of even having a program choreographed by Victor at all. Yuuri assumed he could keep the program after the skate-off, so he might as well practice it. He bit back his tears and anxiety and tried to take in what Victor was showing him.

 

Watching Victor demonstrate the Eros skate was painful on many levels. Despite his hurt, Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a tingle in his chest as Victor flowed through the movements. It was an intense dance, and Victor was beautiful. No, beautiful didn’t quite cover it. Victor was… _hot_. Yuuri blushed as his mind inadvertently filled with images of Victor ending the skate by gathering him into his arms and pressing him into a passionate kiss. Then he remembered that _he_ would have to perform this skate, _in front of Victor_ , making him feel both nauseous and ever so slightly wishful that he could make Victor feel tingly too.  And _then_ he remembered that Victor would leave soon, and his heart iced over again.

 

It was a long day. Yuuri was grateful when Victor finally ended practice for the day, but they went straight to dinner, which was a tense affair as Victor tried to make small talk with his two students. When it was socially acceptable, Yuuri made his excuses and retreated to his bedroom. He cried long and hard, muffling himself with his pillow. After a while, he heard footsteps down the hall, and he quickly flicked off his lamp. The steps continued and paused at his door, followed by a hesitant knock. They waited a few moments, then paced away again, evidently deciding that Yuuri was asleep. Good. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

 

The next few days were difficult and confusing. Yuuri was still not allowed to do jumps, which Yurio seemed to take great joy in by practicing his quads as much as possible. It was excruciatingly frustrating not to be able to practice his greatest skating weakness. Yuuri knew it didn’t really matter-Yuri was obviously the better skater- but Yuuri still wanted to perform well in front of Victor. And the rest of Hasetsu, apparently. Somehow, Yuuko’s triplets had roped their family into turning the skate-off into a full-on exhibition. Yuuri was glad the business would get more attention, but he wished it wasn’t at his expense.

 

Then there was Victor himself, who baffled Yuuri at every turn. He continued to be warm and encouraging to Yuuri, like nothing had changed. Yuuri tried to create some distance between them, pulling away quickly from his touches, and turning down to take a walk after practice. While admittedly, there was nothing Yuuri would like more than to take a walk on the beach alone with Victor, he knew he couldn’t indulge in such thoughts. Wishing and growing more attached would just make it hurt that much worse when Victor left. But, did he see Victor furrow his brows in concern when Yuuri pulled away? This expression was quickly replaced by Victor’s usual sunny disposition, so maybe he was imagining it.

 

And, Yuuri couldn’t help but notice that Victor gave him lots of physical prompts during practice, more than any coach had for him before. And Victor, frankly, kept his distance from Yurio. To be fair, Yurio reminded Yuuri of an untamed kitten, so any attempts to physically adjust his position probably would have ended with Victor covered in scratches. Still, all this did not help Yuuri’s heart as it twisted itself with a thousand conflicting emotions.

 

On the fourth day of practice, Victor began to lecture the pair about expressing the emotion felt in the music. “All the technique in the world is nothing if it is lifeless and stiff!” he explained. “Both of you are skating like this is a high school history paper.” When they both failed to instill more expression into their skating, Victor dismissed them for the day, saying, “Think about what Eros and Agape mean to you. Maybe that will unlock the heart of your routines.” His eyes lingered on Yuuri just a moment too long for comfort, giving him a significant look that he didn’t understand.

 

Unfortunately, Yuuri thoroughly failed Victor’s assignment. That night he was moping at dinner, when a thought occurred to him, and it burst through his lips before he could stop himself.  
  
“A pork cutlet bowl! That’s what Eros is to me!”

 

He was met with an awkward silence and surprised looks from both Russian skaters, though there was a hint of amusement in Victor’s eyes. “Uh-I-I mean,” he started, not really knowing what he was trying to say or where he was going with the sentence. The room was suddenly hot and suffocating.

 

“We can work with that,” Victor said kindly. _Oh, if he didn’t think I was a loser before, he definitely does now_ , Yuuri thought.

 

And then, from Yurio: “Your passion is a three thousand calorie bowl of fried pork? Geeze, no wonder your heart gave out so quickly.” This earned Yuri a sharp look from Victor, but Yuuri didn’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. He was embarrassed enough as it was.

 

The next day, Yuuri found some courage to finally talk to someone about some of the emotions he was feeling. He spoke with Takeshi early that morning before practice, and he confessed the “katsudon is my eros” incident to him.

 

“It sounds like you’re having trouble connecting to the music,” Takeshi commented as they stretched in the locker room, Yuuri wincing as the movement pulled on his still-recovering chest.  
  
“Actually, I really _can_ feel a story with the music,” Yuuri explained, “I mean, when I listen, I think of a playboy coming to town and trying to seduce a woman. She keeps rejecting him, but he pursues her until she finally lets him in, but then he leaves after he gets what he wants.”

 

Takeshi wolf-whistled, and Yuuri realized he was striking a ridiculous pose, like the woman turning the man away. “Yow, sounds hot, Yuuri! Just dig into that, and I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ve always been good at artistic expression in the past.”  
  
“Yeah, but…it’s so, just, not like me? And I have to do it for, well you know, in front of…” Yuuri wrung his hands.  
  
“In front of Victor?” Takeshi finished, raising an eyebrow. Yuuri nodded.  
  
“Yeah, you’ve had the hots for him for ages, I can see what that would be nerve-wracking,” Takeshi teased. Yuuri blanched and tackled his friend, covering his mouth with his hand.

 

“Shh! What are you doing? Someone could be listening! And it was just a childhood crush, I, I took the posters down!” Yuuri tried to gain composure as Takeshi laughed at him.

 

“Calm down, we’re the first ones here, and your secret is safe with me,” Takeshi said as Yuuri relinquished him.

 

Then, more seriously, he added, “You know we’re all here for you, right Yuuri? Me, Yuuko, Mari, Minako? I know the last several months have been rough for you. If you need us—any of us—we’re here, okay?”

 

“O-okay,” Yuuri replied, taken aback by the sudden heavy turn of the conversation. Where was this coming from? Now that he thought about it, he had been isolating himself… after the Grand Prix Final, after the accident, and now with the skate-off. Oh. “Yeah, thanks. I know. Thanks,” he repeated.

 

“Good.” A moment later, they heard a commotion as Yuri made his way into the locker room, and the conversation was over.

 

Takeshi’s statement jolted Yuuri out of his head a bit, and practice was much easier for him that day. He reminded himself that even if (or when) Victor did leave, he was still surrounded by people who cared about him. He had his friends and family at home, and still connected with Phichit regularly. He was not alone. Victor leaving would be painful, but it wasn’t the end of the world, and he could withstand it with the help of his support network. That afternoon, he made sure to stop and chat with Yuuko after practice (and pose for an Instagram photo for the triplets), and he visited Minako at her studio, toying with an idea he had for his Eros skate. By the time he found his way home, Yuuri was in a much better mood, anxiety having lifted significantly.

 

And maybe that was why, when he was walking through the living room and Victor called to him, he decided to join him on the couch.

 

Victor’s eyes lit up as Yuuri sat down. “Look at this,” he said excitedly, shoving his phone into Yuuri’s hands. A video was loaded on screen, and Victor quickly reached over and hit “play.” Within a few seconds, Yuuri burst out laughing. Someone had filmed their poodle—who looked strikingly like Makkachin—sliding around on a frozen pond and set it to the program music Victor had used a few years ago.  
  
“Isn’t this wonderful!” Victor nearly squealed as the video came to a close. Yuuri braced his chest to steady his injury as he laughed and handed the phone back.  
  
“That’s amazing,” Yuuri concurred, “Can you imagine trying to train a dog to skate?”  
  
“Ooh, I should buy Makkachin some doggy skates, he would look so cute!”  
  
“Are those even a thing?” Yuuri giggled, “I’d think his furry feet are slippery enough.”

 

“Can’t you just picture him spinning around? I wonder if I could teach him to do a flip? Even just a single would be impressive for a dog! Makkachin would definitely win a dog skating competition,” Victor decided proudly.

 

“No no no-I can do you one better!” Yuuri interjected, “You could do a pair skate with him!”  
  
“Ah, I love it! We could get matching outfits and everything!”

They both fell into a fit of laughter, and Victor touched Yuuri’s knee as he doubled over. It was then that Yuuri realized how close they were sitting. Victor had sidled up right next to Yuuri so they could both view the phone’s screen. A warmth emanated from Victor’s hand on his knee and their lightly brushing shoulders that then spread throughout his body. Victor leaned back up, meeting Yuuri’s eyes and giving him a carefree smile that Yuuri easily reciprocated.

Victor’s smile redoubled as he took in Yuuri’s expression, and Yuuri became keenly aware of Victor’s lips. They were tantalizingly close to his own. Yuuri was flooded with the desire to close the gap between them. It would be so easy to just lean in. Never mind the inevitable anxiety he would feel from throwing caution to the wind. In this moment, nothing felt more right than pressing his lips to man he had longed for from afar for so long. What was there to lose?  
  
Victor. He could lose Victor.

Yuuri didn’t know if the kiss would be welcome, and it could destroy everything between them if it wasn’t. And while Yuuri now knew that he didn’t _need_ Victor, he realized that he still wanted him. Yuuri wanted Victor, even if it was just as a coach or a friend. And he couldn’t risk it all with an impulsive kiss.  
  
And in that moment, Yuuri realized that he wasn’t going down without a fight.  
  
He pulled back and jumped to his feet, Victor lurching forward as Yuuri’s knee stopped giving him support. He crinkled his eyebrows as his gaze followed Yuuri, as if surprised by the sudden change.  
  
“I should go to bed!” Yuuri said, a little too quickly. “Um. Early morning tomorrow. I have a doctor’s appointment first thing.”  
  
“Yeah,” Victor said distractedly, “It’s good to be rested up for that…”  
  
“But. Um. I’m going to ask him if I can practice jumps again!” Why was he talking so loud? Victor was _right_ there and didn’t need to be shouted at.  
  
“That sounds like a good plan.”  
  
“Okay! Um. I’ll go now. Goodnight!” Yuuri shuffled off quickly.  
  
“Good night Yuuri…”

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, the doctor’s appointment did not go as Yuuri hoped.

“I understand you are frustrated, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to try jumps just yet. If you fall wrong, you could re-injure yourself and make your recovery last even longer,” the doctor explained patiently. “Honestly, I don’t think you should even be doing as much skating as you are right now. When I cleared you to skate a few weeks ago, I meant maybe half an hour every other day to ease back into it. Not taking on a rigorous training schedule.”  
  
“I can handle it,” Yuuri defended.  
  
“Tell me, how is your pain since our last appointment? Is it getting any better?”  
  
Yuuri’s eyes darted to his hands, “Well…”

 

“It’s not, is it?”

 

“No. It’s worse sometimes,” Yuuri mumbled.  
  
“You need to take it easy. This type of injury takes a long time to heal, Yuuri. Don’t make it last even longer by pushing too hard.”

 

Yuuri deflated as he took the bus home. They hadn’t set a specific date for the exhibition yet, so maybe he could convince them to set it back a month to make it more fair? He could hear Yurio’s indignant response to his request already. But he had to try, right? It was either that or forfeit outright.

 

Yuuri went straight to the rink and changed for practice. The others didn’t know he was back yet, and he paused to watch the practice, unnoticed for the moment. He peered out at the ice just in time to see Yurio flying through the air, perfectly landing a quadruple salchow. Victor clapped, and the younger Yuri looked extremely pleased with himself. Yuuri’s heart sank. They looked so natural together, speaking in rapid-fire Russian as Yuri prepared to begin another portion.  
  
Maybe he should just forfeit. There was no way he could keep up with the young Russian skater.

 

The tick of his skate guards as he pressed forward alerted Victor to his presence. Victor turned around and broke into a wide smile. “Yuuri! Welcome back! How was your appointment?”

 

“Uh…it was okay,” Yuuri said nervously insides squirming. He had no plan for what to say to Victor just now. _I can’t skate, I’m not good enough, you should just go home now_ , a voice in his head suggested maliciously. They were all thinking it, right? He may as well be honest and just call it quits before embarrassing himself at the exhibition.  
  
“Do you have good news for me?” Victor asked, eyes alight. His expression was pure innocence and hope, concern and delight all wrapped into aqua orbs as vivid as the sea. Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat and flashes of the warmth from the night before blew through his mind.  
  
“Yes,” he said decidedly, “He said I’m clear to start doing jumps.”

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri had just told a lie. A big one. He knew it. And he was paying for it.  
  
He was rusty after so long a time away from doing jumps. Which meant he fell. A lot.

 

It was another long day for Yuuri. He could still hear Yurio’s sarcastic comments from his numerous falls. Granted, they were in Russian, but he got the gist of the meaning from tone of voice. Yuuri’s body was battered and sore all over by the end of the day, and he considered soaking in the onsen. He hadn’t gone in since the accident, since he didn’t like other people seeing the marks on his body (it always led to lots of questions). Yuuri decided against it and resorted to soaking in his private bathtub. It wasn’t the same, but it helped. A little.

 

Practice the next few days was grueling, though there were a few highlights. Yuuri was pleased that he could still consistently land a triple axel, and Victor’s eyes shone when he praised him (always an added bonus). Still, Yuuri was constantly twisting his body in different directions, and it wore on him. Catching himself when he fell sent a jolt through his body, though it was better than landing directly on his chest. He could tell the pain was getting worse, that he was straining old injuries, but he just pushed through it.

 

This was the only way he could hope to keep Victor in his life.  
  
So he struggled on, and did his best to conceal his pain from everyone in his life. He didn’t want to get caught in the lie and forced to stop practicing. Yuuri gritted his teeth and willed his expressions to remain neutral, even when he fell for the fifth time in a row, or when reaching while doing the household chores aggravated something he had twisted earlier that day. Sometimes he would slip up and visibly shudder or wince as pain shot around his body, but he denied anything being wrong when Victor would question him. Victor was very observant, so he had to be on high alert all the time to keep up the act.

 

Then one day, toward the end of practice, Yuuri fell too hard, too fast. He couldn’t catch himself in time and more or less belly-flopped onto the ice, smashing his chest and wrenching his arm as the force of the fall rolled him onto his side. It was a spectacular, undignified crash. Pain wracked his body, though in a corner of his mind, Yuuri dully commented that it was good that he was still awake and able to feel pain, unlike the previous time he had taken a direct hit to the chest. Victor was instantly sprinting toward him, and even Yurio stopped his practice and stared wide-eyed, for once out of snippy comments. Relief washed over Victor’s face as Yuuri sat up.  
  
“I’m fine,” Yuuri gasped, trying to shake Victor off of him. Adrenaline was beginning to course through his veins, dulling the pain somewhat but making him jittery.  
  
“We should end for the day, Yuuri, and get you checked out,” Victor began, but Yuuri protested.  
  
“We only have twenty minutes left,” he said between gasps. “I’m fine, just startled. Let’s keep going.”  
  
No way was he going to show weakness now. He had enough of that at the Olympics. Victor looked unconvinced, but Yuuri pulled himself up with the rink wall and set off again, determined look in his eye. At least he hoped, it was hard for him to modulate his expression while keeping a handle on the stinging pain. Yuuri knew he couldn’t convince the pair that he was pain free, but maybe he could fake toughness long enough to make it back home.

 

Somehow, Yuuri held on through the end of practice, making sure to take his pain medicine when he got back to the changing room. He grit his way through the walk back home and through another awkward dinner, ignoring a few worried glances from Victor.

 

Yuuri turned in early again and slept fitfully for a few hours. He woke, though, as his body protested to his recent abuse and the waning of his medicine. Yuuri tried to ignore it, he was so tired from the practice and wanted to will himself into more rest. But his body would not be ignored, pain levels spiking til it drew tears to his eyes. A moan escaped from his lips as he gathered himself into a throw blanket and stood up. He needed to find some ice. Now.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Victor dried his hair in a towel as he made his way back to his room from the onsen. A nice soak in the hot springs was definitely in order. The last few days had been… trying, to say the least. It was finally dawning on him that he didn’t know anything about coaching. He tried to go with his gut, or follow Yakov’s example, but he had to admit to himself that he was a novice trying to compete among seniors. What if he let both his skaters down?

 

At least he wasn’t bored anymore.  
  
Though speaking of his skaters…Victor had no idea what was going on with Yuuri these days. One minute, he seemed like he was about to kiss Victor, and then the next… running away like he wanted Victor to leave Hasetsu. It was so confusing. And they had been doing so well! Victor would never admit this to anyone, but he had stayed awake half the night just watching Yuuri sleep, the night he had let him into his room. He had been connecting with this beautiful, surprising man, connecting with him in a way he hadn’t connected with anyone in the past, and it was painful to see him drifting away.  
  
Did it have something to do with Yuri P? Victor had to wonder. His arrival was when the troubles began. But Yuuri couldn’t possibly see him as a threat, right? Yuuri had already beat him in a dance off at the banquet, so there was no doubt in Victor’s mind that he could do it again. Though the whole competition was bogus anyway. Not that he had told Yuuri that.  
  
Maybe he should have mentioned that to Yuuri. Hmm.  
  
Victor was so lost in thought that he nearly ran into the Japanese skater as he approached his room. He jumped back in surprise, and was then startled by Yuuri’s posture. He was curled in on himself with a blanket around his small frame, beads of sweat pricking his brow. Yuuri was obviously startled to run into Victor as well, his eyes wide as he stared at his coach. The look turned into a grimace as he clutched his side.  
  
“Yuuri? What’s wrong?” Victor asked in hushed tones.  
  
“It’s fine. I-“  


“It’s not fine. Something’s wrong. Tell me what it is,” Victor demanded gently.  
  
Yuuri looked away and mumbled, “Just sore from the fall. I’m getting an ice pack and some medicine. I’ll be fi-“

 

“Pain level?”

 

“What?”  
  
“Scale of 1 to 10. What’s your level.”

 

“Uh, a four.”  
  
Victor looked at him incredulously. “We both know that’s bull. You don’t look like a four. This is a six, at least.”  
  
Yuuri sighed and looked up at Victor through watery eyes. “Can you please move so I can go get my ice?” he asked weakly. Victor’s heart clenched.  
  
“I’ll go get it,” Victor stated with finality. He ignored Yuuri’s protests as he opened his bedroom door and ushered Yuuri onto his bed. “Wait here. I know what to get. Just…try to relax while I’m gone. Okay?” Yuuri nodded as he sat down on the edge of the mattress.

 

Victor dashed to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the freezer and other things Yuuri needed. He groaned to himself in frustration. This was exactly the kind of thing he wanted to avoid as a coach. And as a friend. Or as more than a friend. He returned to the room quickly and found Yuur laying back, propped up against his pillows. His body was wracked with tension, and he looked up warily as Victor entered.  
  
Victor rushed to his side and pressed a glass of water into his hand, alongside some pills. “These should help with the pain and help you sleep,” he explained as Yuuri took them. Then he handed over the ice and watched as Yuuri laid down again and arranged it on his chest. He shivered with the cold from the ice and wrapped his blankets tighter around himself. Victor climbed onto the other side of the bed and sat next to Yuuri, arms wrapped around his knees. They sat in silence for a few moments as Yuuri tried to regulate his heavy, erratic breathing.  
  
“I lied,” Yuuri suddenly burst out.  
  
“What?” Victor turned to face Yuuri. “Lied about what?”

 

Yuuri looked away as he said, “The jumps. I lied. I’m not cleared for them yet. I-I-I really shouldn’t be practicing as much as I am.” His voice shook as he confessed.  
  
“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed, heart full of worry. “That’s so dangerous! Why would you do that? Why didn’t you tell me that-“

 

“Because I don’t want you to leave!”

 

Yuuri clapped his hands over his mouth, realizing what he had just said. His face burned bright red, and he rolled slightly to his side, away from Victor.  
  
Victor was stunned. Him? Leave?  
  
“Yuuri…” He gently placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder trying to coax him out.  
  
Yuuri’s voice was muffled by his hands as he took a deep breath and continued. “If I don’t practice, I’m going to lose, and then you’ll leave. I mean, I’ll probably lose anyway, but…I had to at least try to keep you.”  
  
Yes, he really should have told Yuuri about his plans. Guilt began to eat away at Victor’s stomach as a small, secret voice in his head whispered triumphantly, _he wants you here!_ He gently rolled Yuuri back and leaned over him so Yuuri was looking right at him. His lashes were glazed with tears, and Victor felt tears form in his own eyes. He had never meant to be a source of pain like this. Never, never.  
  
“No, Yuuri, no, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered softly, desperately searching Yuuri’s eyes, trying to make him understand.  
  
“Then why-?”  
  
“Then why the competition? Just a stupid way to try to motivate you two to try your best. I…I never intended to pick a winner,” he confessed to Yuuri. “I was going to offer to coach both of you at the end. I know-I know Yuri can be a handful, but he’s like a little brother to me, and his family situation is…complicated to say the least, and your family is so nice, so maybe he would decide to stay and we’d enroll him in school, or something, I don’t know…” He looked helplessly at Yuuri. “I don’t know what I’m doing as a coach, most of the time. I’m sorry, Yuuri…” he finished in a whisper.  
  
He held his breath as he watched Yuuri’s face, emotions flitting by so quickly he was unreadable. Finally, Yuuri’s face softened. “That’s, that’s really nice, Victor. You’re a good teammate.”  
  
Victor laughed a little as some of the tension drained from his body. “I should have told you. I guess I thought you knew this competition wasn’t serious. I’m sorry.”  
  
“I thought you were trying to find an excuse to get rid of me,” Yuuri admitted, biting his lip and holding back tears.  
  
“No!” Victor said, almost too forcefully, and soothingly brushed Yuuri’s hair out of his face. He struggled against the sudden, overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss Yuuri. Maybe he could show him how he truly felt, dispelling any fear and doubt in Yuuri’s mind. But Victor knew that kissing someone when they were crying and having a near panic attack was not always a welcome response, so he stayed his longing. “No,” he continued, “Yuuri, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here, coaching you.”  
  
At last, Yuuri seemed to understand, and he nodded slightly, body deflating as he relaxed. Victor dropped down on his shoulder to lay beside him, and Yuuri turned so they were facing each other.  
  
“We need to be better at communicating with each other,” Victor said as they stared into each other’s eyes.  
  
“We do,” Yuuri agreed quietly.  
  
Victor reached over and stroked Yuuri’s arm. “Promise me you’ll let me know if anything is ever wrong?” he requested. Yuuri nodded, relaxing into Victor’s touch as he continued  to trace lazy patterns on his arm.

 

As they continued to lay side by side, Yuuri’s eyes began to flutter as exhaustion and the medicine began to take hold. Soon, his breathing evened out and slowed, and Victor felt a warm glow in his stomach as he watched the worry drain away from Yuuri’s face. After another ten minutes, Victor lightly peeled away the ice pack so it wouldn’t sit on Yuuri too long, then turned out the lamp.  
  
Yuuri stirred at the movements. He sat up slightly and muttered, “Should go back to my room, sorry.”

 

“It’s okay, you can stay,” Victor said, gently pushing Yuuri back onto the pillows. “I’ll be here if you need anything in the night.”  
  
Yuuri mumbled his thanks, then settled himself back into the bed as Victor pulled a blanket around the two of them. Victor’s heart jumped as Yuuri leaned his head softly against Victor’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of Yuuri’s head. Then he, too, drifted off to sleep, completely at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being so mean to our favorite couple these past two chapters. They're starting to work it out. 
> 
> It might be a little longer until the next update- I have about caught up with everything I have written!
> 
> I think in the beginning I said 7-10 chapters, but I think this story is going to end up being longer than that. It keeps gaining a mind of its own and getting a lot longer!
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	7. Exhibition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be addicted to writing today! Have another chapter :)
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone who has commented! Some sad things have happened to me recently, and your comments made my day :)

_WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!_

 

Victor woke with a start to the incessant knocking at his door. Yuuri was still curled against his side, one arm propped against Victor’s chest, mercifully still asleep despite the noise. Light filtered into the room, and Victor knew it must be morning already.

  
He jumped up quickly and threw open the door to shush the knocker, and was met with a very angry looking Yuri Plisetsky. Victor stepped out and closed the door behind him, hushing the teenager.   
  
“Where have you been?” Yuri hissed at Victor. “I’ve been at the rink for almost an hour.”

 

Oh no. Practice. Victor had turned off his alarm so Yuuri could sleep, but had forgotten to tell Yurio that practice was cancelled for the day. Oops.   
  
“Sorry, uh, Yuuri’s a bit unwell at the moment, and I forgot to tell you no practice today,” Victor tried to explain.

 

“Wait—was he in there with you?” Yuri asked, looking at him in disbelief. “Oh my _god_ , are you two?”  
  
“Shh! It wasn’t like that.”  


Yuri raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” Then he frowned and crossed his arms. “Wait—the competition. You’re trying to get with him—it’s been rigged this whole time!”  
  
Victor motioned for Yuri to be quiet again, then sighed as he had nearly the exact same conversation with Yuri as he had the night before. Yuri scowled throughout his explanation, but briefly looked almost touched when Victor mentioned that Yuri could stay with them in Hasetsu.   
  
“Well? How about it, Yuri. Will you stay?” Victor asked him.   
  
Yuri looked around and scuffed his foot. “I don’t know what my mother would say,” he said quietly. “I should go back to Yakov, be with a real coach who actually knows what he’s doing.” The bite was back in his voice.   


“Yeah, that’s okay, Yuri. That’s totally your call. But, you’re welcome to stay here for a while. We can still have the exhibition, and I can train you so you’re solid on your short program before you go back. Would that be okay?”  
  
“Yes!” Yuri said too quickly, then remembered to scowl. “Sure. Whatever.”  
  
“Sounds great.” Victor smiled at him kindly. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your day. Maybe you can get Mari to show you the ninja castle.”  
  
Yuri nodded sullenly, but looked pleased as he walked away and thought that Victor wasn’t looking. Victor shook his head. Teens.

 

Victor went back into his room and had no idea how Yuuri was still sleeping after the commotion just outside the door. He supposed he was glad that Yuuri didn’t hear everything that Yurio had to say about them, not yet at any rate. Yuuri was curled on his side, now tucked up so that his elbows nearly touched his knees. Shadows from the trees outside bled in through the thin curtains and danced across Yuuri’s form. Victor decided to indulge himself and laid back down next to Yuuri, waiting for him to wake up.   
  
It was another hour or so before Yuuri started to shift, and Victor did not mind this at all.

 

* * *

  
  
Victor continued his training with Yurio the next day, though Yuuri stayed off the ice the rest of the week. He could tell that something had changed between his two students, though. Yurio was never polite to anyone, but it seemed that his insults to Yuuri were less cutting, and Yuuri attempted to have a conversation about life in Russia with the younger skater during dinner. Yurio’s answers were usually vague, though he occasionally gushed if he had a particularly fond memory of a competition.   
  
Yuuri was more relaxed around Victor as well. Victor knew they had some ground to cover before everything was back to normal, but Yuuri was coming out of his shell again and accepted Victor’s offers to spend time together after practice. Sometimes they would watch a movie and Yurio would join them, filling the evening with his sarcastic commentary on the characters’ terrible decisions.   
  
The next week, Yuuri returned to skating, but only in the mornings, with frequent breaks, and no jumps. If he ever looked like he was pushing too hard, Victor benched him. There was no way he was going to let Yuuri hurt himself again. Yuuri was obviously frustrated, but he accepted Victor’s instructions. Though he wasn’t allowed to practice, Yuuri often stayed at the rink and watched afternoon practice, or worked on his own projects on his laptop with Victor and Yurio in the background.   
  
In particular, he was working on a project Victor had given him. The night before Yuuri went back to the rink, Victor approached him and asked about his plans for the free skate.  
  
“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it yet. Usually I let my coach pick the music. Is there something you have in mind?” Yuuri asked Victor.   
  
“You’ve never picked your own music? Yuuri!” Victor shook his head. “You should find something that you connect with! A song that brings a powerful memory, or reminds you of a lover, yes?”  
  
“What?” Yuuri’s face blanched, then turned bright pink. Victor enjoyed this response a little too much.   
  
“Oh right, I forgot that you haven’t had a lover before,” he smiled brightly at Yuuri, who seemed to be squirming inside. “Well, you get my meaning. Find a song that fits you or brings a strong emotional response.”

 

“Uh…” Yuuri tried to find his voice again. “Well, a friend of Phichit’s did create a song for me once, but it didn’t really work out…maybe we could try it again?”  
  
Victor didn’t think a previously rejected song would do any better now, but he let Yuuri find his battered iPod and play the music for him. No, this would not do at all. It was too weak, too bland. Yuuri was so much more than this music. “Let’s keep looking,” he told his student, and Yuuri set to listening to music while he was off of practice, trying to find the perfect song.   
  
Yuuri hadn’t had much luck so far.  
  
One morning during his second week back to skating, Yuuri pulled Victor aside and nervously asked to have Tuesday afternoons off.  
  
“Sure, Yuuri, that’s fine,” Victor assured him, “You’re not practicing in the afternoons now anyway, you don’t have to stick around.”  
  
“Thanks,” Yuuri said, but continued to look antsy.   
  
“Is something wrong?” Victor prompted, growing concerned.

 

“Uh…I, um, just thought I should tell you, I’m, uh… going to see my counselor again? I think I’ve been having a lot of anxiety with everything that’s happened and thought I should go in…”  
  
“I think it’s great that you’re taking care of yourself, Yuuri,” Victor said sincerely. “Were you nervous about telling me that?”  
  
Yuuri nodded. “A little. I mean, a lot of people are cool with it, but some people still aren’t these days.”  
  
“You know, I really don’t understand that. Mental health is just as important as physical health, and no one blinks an eye if you go to the doctor for the flu,” Victor said.   
  
“Yeah. Thanks.” Yuuri perked up, and they headed out of the locker room towards the rink, where Yurio was waiting impatiently.  
  
“I’ve actually been to a therapist myself a few times,” Victor mentioned.  
  
“You have too?”  
  
“Sure. My family life wasn’t always easy growing up, and talking to someone and getting some strategies to help me manage my anger and emotions was really helpful.”  
  
“Thanks for telling me that, Victor,” Yuuri said, looking up at him with bright brown eyes.  
  
“Anytime,” Victor said, giving him a friendly bump on the shoulder with his own.

 

* * *

 

 

After three full weeks, Yuuri was finally cleared for jumps. Victor made him start slow at first, of course. Yuuri was not allowed to try any quads for at least another week. But, he could at least start practicing his short program in full and try down-graded jumps where the quads would go. Yuuri smiled as he perfectly landed a triple axel, and even Yurio looked somewhat impressed at his performance.   
  
After a quick discussion with Yuuko, Victor finally set a date for the Hot Springs on Ice exhibition- they would do it on the Saturday in three weeks’ time, towards the end of May. Yuuri’s program would not be perfect at that point, but they were confident that he could perform well enough for an exhibition with the downgraded jumps.

 

Even so, Yuuri was ready to practice quads again in short order. He was glad to finally be truly on the mend and able to do what he wanted. He sometimes had to slow himself down, but every day was better.

 

One morning, Yuuri was up and at the rink before Victor, a rare occurrence. Yurio, ever ambitious, was already there when Yuuri arrived, running through his quads. Yuuri tried not to be jealous of the younger skater’s abilities as he admired his form and landings. At some point, Yurio must have felt Yuuri’s eyes on him, and he stopped to glare at the Japanese man.  
  
“What are you staring at?” he demanded.  
  
“Yuri… will you help me learn to land a quad Salchow?” Yuuri asked suddenly.   
  
Younger Yuri rolled his eyes. “Seriously?” He paused for a moment, considering. “Fine. But only because our coach seems to have forgotten about us today. _Someone_ has to train you.”  
  
So Yurio tried to teach Yuuri what he knew, and he was as merciless as Yuuri suspected he would be.  
  
“No! That was all wrong! Get up and do it better!” Yurio called as Yuuri tumbled to the ice again.  
  
“Can you be a little more specific?” Yuuri asked him. “What, in particular, can I do better?”  
  
“Uh, all of it? Here, watch me do it, _again_.”  Yurio showed him a few more times, and Yuuri tried again, and on his third try, he managed to land. It was shaky, but he didn’t fall or touch down.   
  
Yurio humphed as he watched Yuuri’s latest try. “I guess that didn’t completely suck,” he said, which Yuuri took as a huge compliment.   
  
Around then, Victor finally showed up wearing sunglasses and carrying a coffee. Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure what he had been up to the night before—the last he heard there were plans to call Chris—but it looked like Victor did not feel super well. Victor asked them what they were doing as he approached the rink, but neither of his students would admit to their own coaching session.   
  
Victor’s face when Yuuri landed the quad Salchow was priceless. Yuuri flashed a smile and mouthed “thank you” to Yurio, who shrugged and rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

A week before the exhibition, Yuuri was surprised when there was a knock on his door and he opened it to find Yurio, not Victor. Yurio looked incredibly uncomfortable as he grumbled, “I need your help.”

 

What? Yuuri could not believe his ears. “Sure, Yuri,” he said. “What do you need?”  
  
“Willyouhelpmewithmystepsequences?”  
  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
  
Yurio sighed. “Will you help me? With my step sequences?”

 

Yuuri was taken aback. “I-Yes, I would be honored to, Yurio.”  
  
Yurio scowled at his nickname. “Meet me really early tomorrow. And don’t tell Victor!”  
  
Yuuri had to laugh. “Sure thing. Our secret.”  
  
They met far too early the next morning for Yuuri’s liking, but Yurio had dragged him out of bed and insisted. Yuuri yawned once as Yurio showed him which area needed work, an action for which Yurio yelled at him for a full minute, something about taking pride in his work and not being a lazy sleepyhead. Yuuri was much more alert after that tirade.   
  
He watched Yurio run through the sequence, then tried to give him constructive criticism, being as specific as possible about what Yurio could do better (unlike the unhelpful, vague advice that Yurio doled out). After about an hour, the movements were a lot smoother and more graceful, though Yuuri recommended that Yurio think more about what emotions he was trying to portray to help the overall effect. Yurio made him film his short program on his phone so he could review it later and think on it.   
  
At that point, Yurio declared that he was hungry, and they paused to grab a snack from their bags. “Thanks for your help,” Yurio said gruffly as they walked toward the locker room.  
  
“Sure,” Yuuri said, “It’s what rinkmates do.”  
  
Yurio’s steps hesitated for just a moment, then he continued, following the older skater.  
  
  


* * *

 

 

That night, Yuuri’s mother made dinner for the whole family. It was the last Saturday before the exhibition, and the next week would be very busy, so she wanted to have a celebration before Yurio left. Everyone, including Minako and Yuuko’s family, was invited.   
  
Yuri Plisetsky was not a fan of crowds. But Yuuri had insisted that he come down and meet everyone, so there he was. In a room full of strangers. Stupid, nice, strangers who were in awe of him. The three little monsters constantly hounded him and took tons of pictures. The little girls were just starting to learn English, and Yurio was impressed with their grasp of skating terms as they held a conversation with him.   
  
Stupid, adorable little kids with their caring family.   
  
They all sat down and were served Hiroko’s speciality- katsudon, of course, _again_. Lovingly made by a mother who was always there for her kids. Yuri was sandwiched between Victor and Yuuko and sat across from Yuuri and his mother. He noted that everyone there spoke English as best they could that evening so that he and Victor were included. Hiroko asked him a lot of questions about his skating plans and how he was enjoying Hasetsu, while Yuuko gushed about his junior Grand Prix performance from the past season.   
  
Ugh, people seeming like they genuinely cared about him. It was disgusting.   
  
He could get used to disgusting.

 

After dinner was over, Yuri surprised even himself when he offered to help clear the table and wash the dishes. Hiroko graciously accepted Yuuri’s help, and she told him embarrassing stories from Yuuri’s childhood while they stood in the kitchen together, suds up to their elbows. Oh, he was _so_ going to make fun of pork-cutlet bowl at practice tomorrow over this.   
  
As they finished the dishes, Yuri checked his phone and sighed. No new texts or emails. Though, he had nearly one hundred notifications from Instagram from all the photos the triplets had taken and tagged him in and the resulting fan comments. When he looked up, Hiroko was smiling at him kindly, and offered him a relaxing cup of tea to take to his room before bed. He thanked her and took it.   


* * *

 

 

On the Wednesday before the competition, Victor approached his two students excitedly. “They’ve arrived!” he announced.  
  
“Uh, who has arrived, Victor?” Yuuri asked uncertainly.   
  
“My costumes! I realized that you two don’t have anything to wear this weekend, so I had my old skating costumed shipped here. Let’s go look!”  
  
Yuuri complied quickly, but Yurio protested that he wanted to stay behind to skate. Victor wouldn’t let him. He proudly led them to the boxes he had deposited in the storage room at the arena and told them to have at it and find something that works for them.   
  
Yurio looked at Yuuri and raised an eyebrow, like he was issuing a challenging, then they both dove into the boxes. “Don’t get something flashier than me!” the young skater yelled to his companion.   
  
Victor was pleased by Yuuri’s response to his delivery. He kept grabbing outfits and saying, “I  remember this one! It was from your free skate the year that you skated to…” and so on and so forth. Yuuri seemed to have a very detailed memory of Victor’s past performances. Victor was secretly pleased. Just how closely had Yuuri been watching him up to this point, and for how long?   
  
Eventually Yuuri pulled out a black outfit with a look of pure delight. “This. This one, definitely!”   


“I remember that one,” Victor said thoughtfully. “My hair was long back then. The outfit was made to represent both female and male genders.”  
  
“It’s perfect,” Yuuri whispered, not taking his eyes off of the costume. Victor smiled to himself. _Oh Yuuri, I can’t wait to see you wear that…_

He turned to his other student, who was checking his phone with a frown on his face. Yurio noticed Victor’s eyes on him and set the phone down nonchalantly.   
  
“Did you find anything?” Victor asked him.  
  
Yurio held up a white, glittery outfit, a stark contrast to Yuuri’s. “This will do,” he said.   
  
“Great!” Victor clapped his hands. “We’re all set for Saturday!”  
  
  


* * *

 

 

Saturday arrived quickly. Yurio woke up to Hiroko cooking breakfast for everyone. They ate rapidly so they would have plenty of time to prepare for the exhibition. As Yurio was getting ready to leave the kitchen, Yuuri’s mother stopped him and wished him luck.  
  
“I know you’ve been working really hard, Yuri! We will miss having you here,” she told him.  
  
“Really? Uh, thanks,” Yuri mumbled. “I’ll say goodbye before my plane leaves tomorrow.” He pushed back the lump in his throat as he left the room.   
  
Yuri could tell there was quite a crowd in the arena as he warmed up inside the locker room. Despite his lack of confidence and medals, katsudon did seem to have a large fanbase in Japan, and they had all come to see him. The whole situation still weirded Yuri out a little bit. It wasn’t a competition anymore, so why were they doing it? Just to show off? But, it was what his temporary coach wanted, so that’s what he did.

 

Yuri ran in place with his music on while Yuuri stretched halfway across the room. They were both engrossed in their own thoughts when Yuuko came and interrupted them. She squealed over both their outfits, remembering them from Victor’s performances when she was young. It was a disgusting display of emotion and attention.   
  
Though Yuri was realizing that disgusting wasn’t always necessarily bad.   
  
Yuuko and Victor left the locker room to make sure the exhibition was set and ready to go, leaving the Yuris by themselves. Yuri sat on the bench and checked his phone. Still no new messages. He grumbled to himself and pushed the phone back into his pocket.  


“Everything okay?” Yuuri asked, sitting down beside the younger skater on the bench.  
  
“Everything’s fine. I’m ready to get this stupid exhibition over with.”  
  
“It’s just that… your phone seems to be pissing you off a lot lately,” Yuuri continued as an explanation.   
  
Yuri huffed and shrugged his shoulders, staring ahead.  
  
“Yuri?”  
  
_Geeze, pork-cutlet bowl is sure persistent._ “Fine. I sent my mother that video you took of me skating. She never responded. It’s stupid. Doesn’t matter. Go back to warming up.”  
  
“Oh Yuri, I’m so sorry. That sounds really tough. Did your grandfather see it?”  
  
_Remind me not to talk so much about my family to others!_ “He’s old school, no way to send it to him. He called me last night to wish me luck, though.”   
  
“It sounds like your grandfather cares a lot about you.”   
  
“Yeah. Too bad he has to travel so much for work.”   
  
“That’s tough.” Yuuri awkwardly patted Yurio on the shoulder. Yurio, for once, did not shrug him off.

 

Victor came in at that point, and informed the two that it was time to go. Yurio was going first. He was met by a cacophony of noise as they entered the main skating area. It was usually so quiet, when it was just the three of them, but now it was totally transformed. In no time at all, Yurio’s name was announced, and he removed his jacket and skate guards and entered the ice.   
  
Yuri had skated this program many times by now. He knew he could skate it with a perfect technical score. And he did just that. But the presentation, putting the emotion into the skate…he knew he fell behind in that area. The song was about Agape, unconditional love. But when had he ever felt that? For his grandpa, yes. But, never for anyone who was around every day. As he skated, Yuri realized that Agape meant home.

 

But where was home to him? Had he ever really felt at home?   
  
His mother barely seemed to notice or care that he had left the country. Though he bet she would say something when he wasn’t there to give her his winnings from competitions.   
  
That wasn’t Agape. That was the _opposite_ of Agape.

 

Yuri felt tears stinging in his eyes as he finished his program. He hadn’t fallen, or even touched down. But he was disappointed in the performance. It was too angry, because he _was_ angry. Angry for an Agape that should have been, but wasn’t.

 

Yuri composed his face as he left the ice. Victor was waiting for him by the exit, smiling. “Nicely done,” he said, clapping Yuri on the back. Yuri fought the urge to roll his eyes, unsuccessfully. He didn’t need patronization from this man.   
  
He put on his skate guards and left to find a seat, then was abruptly ambushed by several small beings. Axel, Lutz, and Loop plastered him with a group hug, chattering excitedly.  
  
“Amazing Yurio!”  
  
“Yay! Good skating!”  
  
“Picture, Yurio, picture!”  
  
Yuuko was right behind them. “That was wonderful, Yurio!” she exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you!”  
  
“Thanks,” Yuri replied, startled by all of the attention. Before he knew it, two of the triplets had grabbed each of his hands, pulling him forward, while the other ran on ahead, shouting, “Come on! Sit with us Yurio!”  
  
Yuri really wished the nickname hadn’t stuck. But he smiled as he let himself be dragged into a front-row seat by his little fans.

 

* * *

 

With Yurio’s performance done, it was now Yuuri’s turn. Victor wasn’t sure if he had ever been this excited to see a routine before. Sure, he’d seen it many times in practice, but today it would be all together, in his old costume. What could be better than that?  
  
Well, Yuuri kissing him while wearing that costume, he supposed, but he shouldn’t set his expectations too high just yet.

 

He was a little worried about Yuuri, if he was honest with himself. Yuuri had gone out the night before, not returning until much later than usual. He looked tired, but in okay spirits. Victor just hoped that Yuuri hadn’t worn himself out too much with whatever he had been doing.  
  
Yuuri approached Victor as he waited for his name to be announced. There was a nervous bounce in his step, but he looked excited as well. Yuuri removed his jacket to prepare for his skate, and Victor’s breath caught in his throat. Yes… this was the perfect outfit for this routine.   
  
“Victor?” Oh no, had he been staring too long? Or too creepily? Victor shook himself out of his thoughts and looked up expectantly, waiting for Yuuri’s question.  
  
“You’ll watch me, right?”  
  
What kind of a question was that? All Victor had wanted to do since he arrived was watch Yuuri.  
  
“I’m going to transform into a delicious pork cutlet bowl!” Yuuri said with determination. _Oh Yuuri, of course you are._

 

“Of course I’ll watch,” Victor said, pulling Yuuri into a hug. Yuuri stiffened briefly, then relaxed. “I love pork cutlet bowls.”  
  
Did he really just say that? Did he just inadvertently tell Yuuri that he loved him? _Way to go, Victor_.

 

If Victor had made the moment awkward, Yuuri didn’t seem to notice. Yuuri’s name was called, and soon he was in the middle of the rink, waiting for the music to begin.   


Victor was completely unprepared for Yuuri’s performance.  
  
He had seen Yuuri skate so many times before, but today he was completely transformed. When did he learn to move like that? They were the exact same jumps and sequences they had practiced, but… different somehow. Fluid, graceful, but still undeniably Eros. Almost like a ballerina had taken to the ice. A thought dawned on Victor.  
  
He allowed his eyes to wander for just a second, finding Minako across the way. She met his glance and winked at him.  
  
Oh, that’s where Yuuri was last night.   
  
Well, Victor couldn’t argue with the results. This new Yuuri was impressive, and he would be a force to contend with this season. Both as a competitor and for Victor’s heart.   
  
The skate wasn’t technically perfect—Yuuri’s jumps could still use practice—but to Victor, he could see nothing wrong. His eyes met Yuuri’s as the crowd erupted in cheers, and they both knew he had done it.   
  
He had surprised Victor yet again.  
  
As he made his way off the ice toward Victor, Victor couldn’t help but notice how alive he looked at this moment. His face was flushed and sweaty, and his breathing was heavy from exertion, but his eyes were bright as he smiled at Victor. Victor felt tears in his eyes as he compared this image to the image of Yuuri lying motionless on the ice that was burned into his memory.   
  
“Victor? How was that?”  
  
Victor nearly pounced on Yuuri, squeezing him into a tight hug and burying his head against his shoulder. “That was perfect, Yuuri.”

 

* * *

 

After the exhibition was over, they all headed over to Minako’s snack bar to celebrate. There was a lot food and music, and Yuuko’s girls forced Yurio to dance with them through several songs. Yurio didn’t seem to mind as much as Victor thought he would. Victor stayed close to Yuuri throughout the party, still reveling in his beauty and the fact that he was alive. To see him laughing and smiling was a breath of fresh air.   


Eventually though, everyone grew tired and they left for the inn. It had been an exciting but exhausting day, and Yuuri excused himself for bed. Victor’s eyes followed him as he left, wanting to go with him, but not knowing how to broach the subject.   
  
Victor retired to his own room, leaving his door ajar, just in case.  
  
He was surprised when Yurio knocked and peeked in. The teen was normally not one for socializing after a long day.   
  
“What’s up, Yurio?” Victor asked.  
  
Yuri made a face at the nickname, but asked, “Can I come in?”  
  
“Sure?”  
  
Yurio came in and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his feet. Victor waited for him to say whatever was on his mind, but after a minute of silence, he decided to push the young skater.  
  
“Is everything okay? Are you all set for your flight tomorrow? Mari said she would drive you to the airport.”

 

Yuri nodded, then mumbled something under his breath.   
  
Victor sighed. “I didn’t catch that, Yuri. What’s going on?”  
  
Yuri looked tortured as he drew a breath and said, with force, “I said, I don’t want to leave!”  
  
Victor blinked a few times, startled by the sudden revelation.

 

Yuri noticed the pause and continued in a bitter voice, “But I get it if you don’t want me here. I know I’m a third wheel on your grand plans with Katsuki.” He folded his arms over his chest and glared at Victor.   
  
“What? No, Yuri, of course you’re welcome to stay. I was just surprised since you talked so much about leaving.”  
  
“Well I changed my mind, okay? I… like it here.”  
  
“It does feel like a home here, doesn’t it? I can see why you want to stay.”  
  
“There’s so much Agape in this family,” Yuri said in a whisper, more to himself than to Victor. And Victor understood completely.  
  
“Well, cancel your flight, Yurio,” Victor announced, leaning forward to shake Yuri’s hand. “It will be an honor serving as your coach this season.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to "nonimouse" for telling me to have Yuri P. stay in Hasetsu! I'd been thinking of having that be a different AU fic, but with their comment realized that it made sense to have it in this story. Yurio stays a lot longer than in canon because he's waiting for Yuuri to get better, so he gets more attached to Hasetsu and its inhabitants. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! <3


	8. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer days in Hasetsu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long! It reads almost like a series of loosely connected one-shots than a fluid narrative, but I think it works since this chapter is basically snippets of their lives during training over the summer.

Victor was pretty sure he was in over his head, but he was also pretty sure he wouldn’t have it any other way.   
  
Having Yurio stay on permanently certainly made things more complicated. He now had to think about music and choreography for two free skates, on top of all the paperwork needed to make sure his skaters were registered and good to go for their competitions. Who knew there was so much pointless busywork involved in coaching? Yakov, probably. Too bad he hadn’t asked him for any advice before he took off to Japan on a whim.   
  
He knew Yakov wasn’t pleased with him back then. He hated to think of Yakov’s response now when he had stolen away his most promising skater. Fortunately, Yakov was thousands of miles away, so Victor didn’t have to witness the damage up close and personal this time.   
  
Still, the new coaching arrangement quickly made the news. It was a nightmarish few days, and Victor and his students put a block on social media for a while. After telling news outlets “no comment” and sending them away several times, they finally took the hint and left Hasetsu in relative peace.   
  
Then there was the matter of Yuri himself. Since this arrangement was long-term, Victor had more to consider that just his skating. Yuri was still quite young—barely 15!—and that meant he still had a lot of growing up to do. Victor hoped he could steer him in the right direction. He remembered when Yakov took him in at a similar age. Raising teenage Victor had been a tall order for his coach, Victor remembered with a pang of guilt. He hated to think of the pain he must be causing Yakov right now.   
  
But it was perhaps because of Yakov that Victor wanted Yurio to stay with him. Victor didn’t know all the details of Yuri’s home life, but it wasn’t great. As far as he could tell, Yuri’s father wasn’t around. His mother was never quite neglectful enough for the authorities to intervene, but her disinterest in her son had to be painful. Though Yuri often pushed him away, Victor felt connected to him and hoped he could pay it forward, provide a new life for Yuri like Yakov had done for him.   
  
And really, was there a better place to start a new life than in Hasetsu with the Katsuki family? Victor doubted it.

 

Victor’s one regret was that he had less one-on-one time with Yuuri that he was anticipating. Well. No matter. He supposed lots of people fell in love without spending the majority of their day alone together.   
  
Yuuri certainly had his back when it came to talking to Yurio about school, a major point of contention with the teen. Yuuri’s knowledge of Japanese schools came in handy, and he gathered the necessary information to get Yurio started. They sat down together across the table from Yurio one night, around a week after he decided to stay, and he eyed them suspiciously, knowing something was up.   
  
“So, Yuri, while you’re staying here for your skating, it’s important that you don’t neglect school,” Victor began. Yurio began to protest, but Yuuri interjected.   
  
“Fortunately, the local school district has a foreign exchange program,” he explained. “We can act as your host family, and you can begin in the middle of 9th grade this September.”  
  
“This is stupid! I don’t need to go to school, I’ll just make a living from sponsorship, you two are such—“  
  
“ _Furthermore_ ,” Victor interrupted, “You need to know at least some Japanese when you start up, so we’re signing you up for a class that meets two nights a week.”  
  
“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Yurio fumed, “I don’t _need_ school. I barely went when I was in Russia—“  
  
“And your grandfather and I both agree that that is a problem.”  
  
“You’ve been talking with Grandpa?” Yurio was flabbergasted. “ _Seriously_?”  


“Look, Yuri, I know it seems like you will skate forever, but at some point, you _will_ retire, and it’s good to have a plan for what happens next,” Yuuri cut in. “I went to college and double-majored in business and dance. When I retire, I can help with the family business, or at a rink or a dance studio… lots of options. Don’t limit yourself.”

 

“I’m _fifteen_! I don’t need to think about retirement yet! I’m not _old_ like you.”   
  
Victor and Yuuri exchanged a humorous glance. “You’re right, we are old,” Victor said. “Which is why it would be good for you to go to school and meet some people your own age.”   
  
Yurio rolled his eyes. “Like I’ll even be able to talk to them.”  
  
“Which is why we’re signing you up for Japanese classes,” Yuuri said, pushing a leaflet towards the teen. “Though you’ll find that most people your age speak English too.”  
  
Yurio seemed to realize that he was out of arguments, so he simply folded his arms and glared at the pair. Then he sat back up and said, “Hang on, why doesn’t _Victor_ have to take Japanese?”

 

“I…uh…”  
  
“That’s what I thought!” Yurio leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head. “If I’m going to take language classes, then you have to as well!”  
  
And that was how Victor and Yurio ended up taking Japanese together.

 

* * *

 

The trio soon fell into a comfortable routine. Much of their day was spent training, though there was ample time in the evenings to relax, or to begin learning a foreign language, in the case of Victor and Yuri. Yuri complained greatly the first night—the class was boring, there was no one there his age, it was all stupid anyway—until Victor said:  
  
“Fine. But I’ll keep learning, and then Yuuri and I can talk about you without you having a clue. Won’t that be fun?”  
  
Yuri seemed more invested in the class after that.

 

Victor also set his students to thinking more seriously about their free skate. They needed plenty of time to choreograph and prepare before their first events. Victor was pleased when he heard that Yuuri had commissioned a new song from Phichit’s friend and tried not to be impatient waiting for it. He knew that composing and recording took time.   
  
Yurio brought him a playlist of suggestions one day. It feature many heavy metal songs that were, frankly, _very_ disturbing, and Victor did not think they would go over well with the judges. “Maybe for the exhibition,” he told the pouting teen. “But let’s keep looking for your free skate, da?”

 

In the meantime, they practiced their short programs and basic techniques. They usually had the rink to themselves during practice, but occasionally a visitor would watch—mainly Minako, Yuuko, or the triplets.

 

One day, Yurio seemed to hit a wall with his step-sequences. No matter how hard he tried, he could not make them more fluid and graceful, which was important for the style of his song. In fact, the harder he tried, the more forced and clunky he looked. Minako happened to stop by that day, and she called the teen over after watching him struggle for a few minutes. He eyed her suspiciously as he skated to the rink wall.   
  
“If you get a chance, you should stop by my ballet studio,” she told him. “We can work on those movements. Yuuri practices with me all the time.”  
  
Yurio shuffled uncomfortably and mumbled a thanks before spinning off. Victor was worried he would turn down the help, but Yurio surprised everyone when showed up ready to dance at Minako’s studio the next day. Some tension in Victor’s chest dissipated when he heard that Yurio was going. Victor had worried that he was letting down his student when Yurio got stuck in a rut, but he saw immediate improvement in Yurio’s skating once the ballet instruction began. Victor reminded himself that is was okay to ask for help, or seek outside guidance for his students. Didn’t Yakov and his wife (ex-wife? Their relationship always seemed to be changing) collaborate all the time?

 

* * *

 

Yuuri occasionally joined Yuri during his ballet sessions with Minako. While Yuuri was quite experienced with ballet at this point, it always helped to have a fresh set of eyes give him advice on his movements. Yurio seemed to benefit from Yuuri’s example. Or, at any rate, Yurio felt very competitive when there was another student in the room, so he listened extra carefully to Minako’s instructions when Yuuri was around.   
  
And speaking of a competitive nature…   
  
Yuuri and Yuri were walking back from the studio one afternoon, when Yurio suddenly stopped and asked, “Will you help me with Japanese sometime?”   
  
“Sure, Yuri. Is there something in particular you need help with?”  
  
“I don’t know. The alphabet. Pronunciation. The grammar. All of it.”   
  
“Okay. I’m happy to work on it together, or start speaking it with you if you feel ready. We can have Victor-“  
  
“No!” the teen exclaimed as Yuuri mentioned their coach.  
  
“Uh.. okay? Why not?”  
  
“Because I want to be better than him.”

 

Yuuri laughed. “It’s not a competition Yurio. It’s helpful for both of you, since you’re living in Japan.”   
  
“Yeah, but he’s _Victor_ with his million gold medals and already fluent in like, three languages,” Yurio rolled his eyes. “I want a leg up.”  
  
“I mean, I have no problem tutoring you privately since you’re going to go to school soon and need the extra practice, but if Victor asks too, I won’t turn him down, okay?”

 

“Fine,” Yuri grunted.   
  
“When are we even going to do private tutoring? We’re almost always with him.”  
  
“Maybe when he takes his ridiculously long baths,” Yurio said.  
  
“Uh…sure.” Victor had been trying to get Yuuri to join him in the onsen. Yuuri hadn’t taken him up on it, and he let Victor think it was because he was still worried about people seeing his injuries. He didn’t really care about that now that he was in a better mental state. But, he was pretty sure he would make a complete fool of himself in front of Victor if he did join him, and he wasn’t ready for that.   
  
“Okay. I’ll make a mad dash for my books when he heads for the baths tonight, deal?”   
  
“Deal.”

 

Unfortunately for Yuuri, Victor’s bath schedule varied widely. Yuuri usually tried to find time to do his therapy homework in the evenings—often a combination of journaling to combat his distorted thoughts and guided meditation to relax his body. It seemed like whenever he sat down to do these activities, he would be jolted by Yurio’s sharp knock telling him it was time to study, even if he made his time to do it significantly earlier or later than the day before. Eventually Yuuri found a consistent routine of doing his exercises right before bed, which worked out in the end, as the meditation helped him sleep.

 

* * *

 

The days grew steadily warmer as summer spread throughout Hasetsu. Victor was used to cooler summers back in Russia, so the heat took some getting used to. Still, he enjoyed sleeping with the windows open to let in a cool breeze that ruffled his hair and filled the room with the sweet scent of ocean and flowers. It was peaceful.   


Of course, not every night was entirely peaceful. Not that that was a bad thing.

 

Victor was just drifting off when Yuuri threw open his door and bounded in and jumped onto his bed, startling Makkachin, who then started sniffing Yuuri all over for treats. Victor blinked and sat up confusedly. Was Yuuri okay? He had never tried to enter Victor’s bedroom before, never mind barging in without asking when Victor was asleep. Victor didn’t mind, he had told Yuuri to just on come in whenever he wanted, but it was out of the norm for his shy skater. But, when Victor’s eyes finally focused on Yuuri, he could see that he was smiling, brown eyes lightly sparkling in the pale moonlight.   


“It’s here!” Yuuri exclaimed, straddling Victor and shoving an earbud into his hand. “Listen!”  
  
_What is where that is making Yuuri so excited?_ He flipped on the lamp and placed the earbud in his ear. Yuuri pressed a button on his iPod, and then Victor understood. It started with gentle, lilting piano notes, then steadily grew into a sweeping melody. Victor was envisioning the choreography already.

 

“It’s perfect,” he determined. Yuuri smiled brightly up at him, and Victor handed the earbud back to him. Their fingers grazed as he delivered it back to Yuuri’s hand, and Victor let his touch linger. Yuuri’s cheeks tinged pink and he gave Victor a shy, questioning glance, but he didn’t pull away.   
  
_Knock knock._ “Hey Victor I—Oh my god. _Gross_.”

 

Apparently, Yurio needed to talk to Victor, and seeing the light on and door open, he decided it was okay to waltz right in. Yuuri only then seemed to notice that he was sitting on Victor, and he immediately jumped up and off the bed.  
  
Victor sighed. “Hi, Yurio. What’s up?”  
  
Yurio’s eyes darted between the two older skaters. “I, uh, got Yakov to send me the song he was going to do for my free skate this year and wanted to show it to you.”  
  
“I’ll let you talk!” Yuuri exclaimed, then left in a hurry. Yurio closed the door behind him and raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Did I interrupt something?” he asked.  
  
“What? No.”

 

Yurio snorted. “Look, I don’t care if you and the piggy date or whatever, but you’d better give me equal coaching time, got it?”   
  
Victor had to laugh at that. “Got it, Yuri. Now, play the song for me. I’d love to hear it.”  


* * *

 

Apparently the “equal coaching time” agreement did not apply to Yuuri. Victor felt so utterly betrayed by the scene he had just walked in on.  
  
(Well, that was an exaggeration, but he felt everything regarding Yuuri extra intensely).   
  
It was a particularly hot day, so sitting in the onsen made Victor feel uncomfortably warm, and he got out of the bath after only a few minutes instead of soaking like usual. He decided to find Yuuri –maybe they could go for a walk in the nice evening weather. As he approached Yuuri’s room, he heard laughter and conversation in basic Japanese. It sounded like Yurio. He smiled to think that his students were getting along so well after their initial rivalry. The door was wide open, so he poked his head in and said hello. They were sitting around Yuuri’s desk, and they both jumped and looked up with guilty expressions when Victor made his presence known. That was when he noticed Yurio’s textbooks spread out on the desk.

 

“What’s are you two up to?” he asked.  
  
“Nothing,” came Yurio’s immediate response. Yuuri was red in the face, and Victor looked at him questioningly. Of the two, he knew Yuuri would be easier to crack.  
  
He was right. “I’m helping Yurio with Japanese!” Yuuri squeaked almost immediately. Yurio glared at him.  
  
“You’re… giving him private lessons?” _Oh, that’s how Yurio was getting so good._   
  
“Um. Basically?”  
  
“How come I don’t get private tutoring with you?”

 

“Uh…”  
  
“Because I want to be better at something than you and I asked for help,” Yurio retorted in a surprising turn of openness as he watched Yuuri struggle.   
  
“But that’s cheating! Yuuri, how could you?” Victor said dramatically. Victor knew he was laying it on thick, and worried for a second that Yuuri would take him too seriously. Fortunately, they had been together long enough for Yuuri to see the joke, and he smiled.   
  
“Victor, you live in a house full of native Japanese speakers. If you wanted extra practice, you could have asked any of us at any time,” Yuuri told him.   
  
Victor leaned against the door frame and pouted. “My students are conspiring against me,” he whined.   
  
Yuuri agreed to help Victor with the language more, but they quickly found that Victor was too distractible to sit down and do formal tutoring. Within a few minutes of looking at the books, he would have a funny video pulled up on his phone to show Yuuri. Sometimes it was in Japanese, to make it relevant.  
  
Eventually, the pair settled into a routine of conversing in Japanese while walking Makkachin together after skating was done for the day. While this didn’t help with reading and writing, it did help Victor’s speaking and comprehension. Yuuri’s parents and sister also began using more Japanese with both Victor and Yurio, often trying to go a whole meal while speaking only Japanese. It was a challenge, but Victor enjoyed getting to know Yuuri’s native language. The process made him feel closer to Yuuri than ever before.   


* * *

 

If you had told Yuri a few months ago that he would spend the summer living in Japan with the loser from the Grand Prix Final and Victor Nikiforov, he probably would have yelled some very, well, _creative_ Russian insults at you. But here he was, on his way to Yuuri’s childhood ballet studio.

 

Life in Hasetsu was different and interesting. And sometimes entertaining, when it came to Victor and Yuuri. It was super obvious that they wanted to like, suck face or something, but neither of them was brave enough to be all, “Wanna make out tonight?” So they did an awkward dance around each other and their feelings.   
  
_Ugh. Just kiss already so we can all move on._

 

At least they let him keep the kittens.

 

A few weeks ago, Yuri was walking back from ballet by himself when he saw two kittens running around behind a store. They seemed friendly, and he couldn’t stand the thought of them being abandoned to life on the street, so he went into the store and asked for a leftover cardboard box. Somehow, he coaxed the kittens into it and brought them back to the inn.    
  
He let them loose in his room and took a good look at them. They were adorable: one gray with extra toes, and one stripy. He nervously showed them to Yuuri and asked if there was a local animal shelter.   
  
“I just want them to be safe and happy,” he explained as one climbed into his lap and started purring.   
  
“You know, Yurio, you can keep them here, if you want,” Yuuri said slowly.  
  
“Really?”   
  
“Sure. We’ve got plenty of room, so as long as you take care of them, it shouldn’t be a problem. Makkachin is good with cats.”   
  
Yuri and Yuuri went to the pet store the next day and got a few supplies, and Victor said he would pay to have the kittens spayed when the time came. That night, they both slept on Yuri’s bed with him. As he scratched them behind their ears, he couldn’t believe they were actually his. Everyone seemed to know that he loved cats, but they would probably be surprised to hear that he had never had a pet before.  He named the striped one Tora (Japanese for Tiger) and the gray one Sora (Japanese for Sky).  

 

Yuri’s thoughts snapped back to the present as he entered the ballet studio. Yuuko and her girls were in the lobby, Yuuko having arrived to pick them up from their lesson. The triplets immediately ran up to greet Yuri, while it appeared that Yuuko was frustrated and ranting to Minako. Yuri’s Japanese was not good enough yet to pick up more than a few words from their rapid conversation.   
  
Minako waved at Yuri, and then a thoughtful look came on Yuuko’s face. She walked up to Yuri and began to speak, switching to English.  
  
“Oooh, maybe you can help me, Yurio!” Yuri was slowly growing resigned to the nickname.  
  
“Help with what?”  
  
“The babysitter for tonight bailed at the last minute. Takeshi and I had reservations for date night, but we’ll have to cancel if we don’t find a replacement soon. Would you be able to babysit the girls tonight for a few hours?”  
  
“Uh…” Yuri was surprised by the request. And honored, though he would never admit it. “Are you sure? I mean, my Japanese still isn’t very good, and they’re just learning English, so…”  
  
“It will only be for a couple of hours, and there’s food ready to go in the refrigerator. All you would need to do is watch them and make sure they don’t hurt themselves. And the emergency responders speak English if you really get into trouble.”   
  
He was still a little dubious, but the triplets had caught wind of what was being asked and looked up at him excitedly. He couldn’t say no to their faces.   
  
“Uh, sure. I can babysit tonight.”  
  
The girls squealed and hugged him, and Yuuko gave him instructions for how to find her house after his ballet session was over.

 

Yuri wasn’t sure what he had just gotten himself into. But how hard could it be to babysit three figure skating enthusiasts?  


* * *

 

When Yurio texted Victor about babysitting that night, Victor immediately set plans into motion to spend some extra alone time with Yuuri. He invited Yuuri on a picnic, who readily agreed, and they packed a bag and headed to the beach with Makkachin to eat dinner.

 

It was a beautiful evening—barely any clouds in the sky and little wind so the ocean was calm. They had a nice chat about Yuuri’s previous skating experiences, and Victor learned more about the inner mind of this often puzzling man. It was clear that Yuuri didn’t like to feel weak, and Victor sincerely hoped he had never made Yuuri feel that way.   
  
Victor enjoyed this, the simple talks on the beach all alone, allowing for both physical and emotional closeness. He looked over at Yuuri. A light breeze had picked up, ruffling his hair, and the setting sun lit up gold flecks in his eyes. Yuuri smiled back at Victor, then wrinkled his brow in concern as Victor continued to stare at him.   
  
“Is something wrong?”  
  
_No, everything is perfect_. _Except for one little detail…_

“Yuuri, what do you want me to be to you?” Victor asked, continuing his intense look at Yuuri. His stomach was filled with anxious butterflies.   
  
“Um, what? What do you mean?” Further confusion on behalf of Yuuri.  
  
“Like, do you want me to be a teacher, a friend, a father figure? What’s my role to you?”  
  
“What? No?”

 

“Okay, so your boyfriend then?” Victor winked. “Okay, I’ll try my best!” _Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes…_  
  
“What?” Yuuri flushed bright red, eyes wide in alarm. Was that a good shocked face or a bad shocked face? Victor couldn’t quite tell. He took a deep breath, swallowing down his insecurities and trying to be brave.  
  
“Yuuri I…think my phone is ringing.”  
  
Of all the possible times someone could have called this evening, it just _had_ to be now, didn’t it? Victor reluctantly checked his phone in case it was an emergency, and sure enough, it was Yurio calling.   
  
“Hi Yurio. What’s up?”  
  
“Is the piggy with you?” came Yurio’s angry and somewhat panicked reply. Was that wailing in the background?  
  
“Yeah, he’s here. Why?”  
  
“Just put him on the phone already, will you?”  
  
“It’s for you,” he said, handing the phone over to Yuuri. He could just hear Yurio’s voice through the phone as he started yelling at Yuuri.  


“Bring your phone with you when you go places!” Yurio fumed.  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would need it tonight. What do you need me for?”  
  
“They won’t stop crying! And I don’t speak enough Japanese and they don’t speak enough English for me to figure out what’s going on!”  
  
Yuuri tried to suppress a laugh. “Okay, hand the phone over to one of the girls, will you?”  
  
A short exchange in Japanese followed, made somewhat difficult because the girl on the other end was sobbing. After a minute, it seemed that Yuuri had determined the issue, and Yurio was back on the line.   
  
“She said the wifi is down and they need to try to reset the router, but it’s in an area they can’t reach. You’ll have to try to do it for them.” Yuuri instructed Yurio how to do it, and Yurio hung up to try his task.   
  
“I’ve had that happen once when I was visiting,” Yuuri said to Victor. “It always causes a major meltdown. Yuuko really needs to limit their screen time more.”

 

Yurio called back a minute later. “It didn’t work! And they’re crying again! What do I do?”  
  
“It sounds like the problem is with the internet company. You’ll probably just have to wait it out.”  
  
Yurio sighed, and the girls’ crying grew louder. “Yuri, do you want me to come over there?” Yuuri asked kindly. “The triplets are sweet, but they are also a lot of work for just one person.”  
  
“…Yes please…”

 

Yuuri hung up the phone and turned to Victor. “Slight change of plans, sorry. You’re welcome to come, if you want.”   
  
They walked down to Yuuko’s and met a very frazzled looking Yuri. Fortunately, the girls snapped out of their despair when they saw Victor. He was still an idol to them, and now he was _in their house_. They were sad that they would have to wait to post their pictures, though. Somehow, Yuuri coaxed them into playing a card game, even getting Yurio to participate, and this activity lasted just long enough for Yuuko and Takeshi to return home.   
  
The trio was very tired by the time they walked back to the inn, and they immediately decided to turn in for the night. However, Yuuri paused for a moment by Victor’s door as they headed back to their rooms.   
  
“Hey Victor?” he said uncertainly. “I thought about your question. And my answer is… I just want you to be you. I don’t want you to change anything for me, okay? Just be whoever or whatever makes you happy.”

 

With that, Yuuri turned and left, but Victor was rooted to his spot, stunned. Yuuri Katsuki had surprised him yet again. When had anyone ever asked Victor to just be himself?   
  
Love is a strong word. But Victor was almost certain now that he was in love.  


* * *

  
  
Skating practice the next morning was going smoothly. Summer was waning, which meant their routines and jumps were becoming more polished all the time. Yuuri fell less often, and fell less spectacularly.   
  
Well, until just now.  
  
He wasn’t quite sure what had gone wrong, but however he had tried to maneuver that last quad was obviously bad form, as he had somehow landed flat on his back. Overall, he didn’t hurt too terribly (he hadn’t gotten very good height during that particular jump), but he did have the wind knocked out of him. It was uncomfortable, not being able to fully draw a breath, but this had happened to Yuuri before and he knew the effects were temporary.   
  
Both other skaters, however, were very concerned and rushed to his side. Yuuri tried to say “I’m okay” to them, but as he wasn’t able to breathe properly yet, what came out sounded like a gasping moan. This was quite alarming to both Victor and Yurio. Victor began to visibly panic, so Yuuri raised himself and gave him a thumbs up.   
  
“Victor! I’m! Fine!” he said between gasps as his normal breathing pattern resumed.   
  
“Yuuri! Don’t scare me like that! Are you sure you’re alright?” Victor exclaimed, kneeling on the ice and throwing his arms around Yuuri, cupping his head protectively with his hand.  
  
“I’m fine Victor, really,” Yuuri said, voice muffled by Victor’s shoulder. He slowly patted Victor on the back, trying to calm him down.

 

Despite Yuuri’s protests, Victor called practice off for the rest of the day, and when they arrived back at the inn, he rushed off to get Yuuri an icepack for his back.  
  
“Totally, totally overreacting,” Yuuri said to Yurio when Victor was out of earshot. He was surprised when the teen did not make a snide remark back.   
  
“Watching you almost die was the scariest day of his life,” Yurio said, quite serious for a change. “Of my life too,” he added.

 

Yuuri was surprised by the sudden confession. “I suppose we never really talked about it. You were there too, weren’t you?”

 

Yurio nodded. “I thought you were going to die, and the only time we ever would have interacted was when I called you a loser in the bathroom. I felt so bad.”  
  
“Oh Yuri, it’s okay.”  
  
“No it’s not! I was _so_ mean. I’m sorry.”   


Yuuri smiled at him. “Thanks, Yurio. I’m glad we got to know each other after that.”  
  
But Yurio wasn’t done. “I didn’t even think you were a loser, I just knew you could do better and was upset that you didn’t.”  
  
“So you yelled at me while I was crying in a bathroom to… motivate me?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Yuuri laughed, and Yurio glared at him. “I’m sorry, that’s actually really funny. Of course I forgive you, Yurio. Just next time, try saying something encouraging instead, okay?”  
  
“Fine.”  


* * *

 

_Yuuri was lying on the ice. He wasn’t moving. Victor tried to reach him, but he couldn’t. He was calling out, Yuuri, Yuuri, but Yuuri couldn’t hear him. A team of doctors came and put him on a stretcher, but instead of taking him to an ambulance, they put him in a hearse. No. It wasn’t supposed to go like that. Yuuri. Yuuri!_

 

“Yuuri!”  
  
Victor sat up in bed, heart racing and breathing rapidly. No. It was all just a dream. Yuuri survived. Look around. Victor wouldn’t be in Hasetsu if Yuuri wasn’t alive. Right?  
  
He had to check on Yuuri.   
  
Victor sprinted to Yuuri’s door and knocked loudly. “Yuuri! Wake up!” he called, not caring what time it was.   
  
After a moment, Yuuri’s sleepy voice trailed out of the door. “Victor? Is something wrong?”  
  
“Can I, can I come in please?”  
  
“Okay…?”  
  
Victor threw open the door and ran inside. Yuuri sat up in bed, surprised by Victor’s outburst.   
  
“What is going on Victor? It’s two in the morning.”  
  
“Sorry, I just, I needed to see you. I had a dream that you, that you died that day. So I had to come see you.” Victor wiped his eyes with his sleeve.   
  
Yuuri relaxed. “Oh. Well, everything’s okay, Victor. I’m right here.”  
  
“Yeah, I see that. I know I’m being stupid.”  
  
“What? No. Never.”  
  
“Really?” Victor sniffed, “Then can I…” he gestured at Yuuri. “I really need to hear the beat of your heart.”  
  
Yuuri nodded and scooted over in the bed, and Victor climbed in next to him. Victor leaned his head against Yuuri’s chest and heard the strong, steady, _thump, thump_. He matched his breathing with Yuuri’s and calmed himself.   
  
“Better?” Yuuri asked, sleepiness returning to his voice as he shifted himself back against the pillows.  
  
“Mhmm.”  
  
They lay like that for a few minutes, each listening to the other’s breathing.   
  
“Thanks, Yuuri,” Victor whispered.   
  
“Sure. Do you get nightmares like that a lot?”  
  
“Not as much as I used to. But I think today really scared me.”  
  
“I forget sometimes how hard that day must have been for you. Come and get me whenever you need me, okay?”  
  
Victor nodded his head against Yuuri’s chest. “I should go back to my room and let you sleep.”  
  
Yuuri shrugged. “This is fine. Stay as long as you need to.”   
  
The next morning found them curled up together, Victor’s arms wrapped protectively around Yuuri and ear still pressed to his heart. The last of the summer sun bathed them in golden light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things to note:
> 
> I don't go into a lot of detail, but it was important to me that Yuuri is getting some professional help for his mental health. Seeing a therapist of some kind is a very normal and healthy thing to do. Take care of yourselves <3 
> 
> Yurio's kittens are based off of my childhood cats.
> 
> Chapters may take me a bit longer to write now because the story has gotten more complicated. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for all of your support! :D <3


End file.
